
Class 
Book. 



EJ^ 



u -ja- 



Gopyright}]"_ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSn^ 




MICHAEL DOUGHERTY. 



/ 



977 



PRISON DIARY, 

OF 

MICHAEL DOUGHERTY, 

Late Co. B, 13th., Pa., Cavalry. 

While confined in Pemberton, Barrett's, 

Libby, Andersonville and other 

Southern Prisons. 



Sole Survivor of 127 of his Regiment Captured the 
Same Time, 122 Dying in Andersonville. 



30 » << - 



1908. 

Chas. a. Dougherty, 

Printer, 

Bristol, Pa. 






LIBRARY of CUNGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

NOV 10 t9oa 

Ccpyriuni entry 
CLASS CU ^Xc. No, 



Entered according to act of Congress, in the year of 1908. 

BY CHAS. a. DOUGHERTY, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The book to which these lines form an introduction is a peculiar 
one in many respects. It is a story, but it is a true story, and 
written years ago with little idea that it would ever come into this 
form. The writer has been induced, only recently, by the advice of 
friends and by his own feeling that such a production would be ap- 
preciated, to present what, at the time il was being made up, was 
merely a means of occupying a mind which had to contemplate only 
the horrors of a situation from which death would have been, and 
was to thousands, a happy relief. 

This book is essentially different from any other that has been 
published concerning the Civil War or any of its incidents. Those 
who have had any such experience as the writer will see its truth- 
fulness at once, and to all other readers it is commended as a state- 
ment of actual happenings by one who experienced them to thefullest. 

In the following pages is given an account of the daily life of 
the writer while confined in Pemberton, Barrett's, Libby, Anderson- 
ville and other Southern prisons. This was my second experience 
of Southern prison life. When captured the first time we were not 
treated as badly as the second time, and no detailed account was 
kept of each day's doings. An account ofimy first capture, however, 
may be of interest. 

On February 26, 1863, my regiment, the 13th Pa. Cavalry, 
then encamped at Winchester, Va., was ordered out on a scouting 
expedition up the Shenandoah Valley and to rout out what was thought 
to be a band of Rebel foragers or raiders. We captured eight or ten 
of them and drove the remainder into the camp of the nth Va, Rebel 
regiment at Woodsdock, some twenty miles from Winchester. We 
then started for camp, our horses almost played out. On our return, 
at Fisher's Hill, we were met by a large force of the enemy, who 
were lined up on both flanks, and who opened fire on us. Of course, 



it was a decoy to lead us on and capture the regiment. We had a 
hand to hand fight for over half an hour, but their force and position 
were too much for us and we were forced to retreat. Our loss in 
killed, wounded and captured was io8. I had my horse shot under 
me at Strawsburg and along with fifty others were taken prisoners 
and conveyed to Richmond and put in Libby prison. We were con- 
fined there until May 26th, when we were exchanged and rejoined 
our regiment at Winchester. 

We had fighting almost every day while in the Shenandoah 
Valley. In June we were transferred to the Army of the Potomac 
and put in the Cavalry Corps, General D. McGreggs, 2d Division, 
and General I. P. Greggs, 2d Brigade. 



War Prison Diary 



October lo, 1863. At Jeffersonvilie. Va., a reconnoitering 
party of my regiment (the 13th) attacked by Mosby at 11.00 P. M. 
fell back to the regiment. 

nth. Moved forward this morning to Culpepper in the rear of 
the army ; heavy cannonading ; my regiment detached; rear guard 
put on picket in the evening at Hazel River ; enemy in our front and 
strong signs of fight. 

I2th. About six this morning enemy appeared in our front and 
drove in our pickets ; skirmishing all day, assisted by the 4th Pa. 
Cavalry. At 5.00 P. M. we were overpowered, cut off from the 
division, and 127 of our regiment, among whom was your humble 
servant, were compelled to surrender. All the prisoners were dis- 
mounted, The enemy proved to be the advance of General Lee's 
army ; remained prisoner at Jefferson all night. 

13th. The rebels took us to Harrington and then back to Jef- 
ferson ; had nothing to eat these two days and men very hungry. 



i4th. Marched from Jefferson through Sulphur Springs to 
Culpepper, distance about twenty miles ; got some biscuit and raw 
bacon, which liie men ate v/ith great relish. Took the cars for 
Gordonsville and remained iiere all night ; the men tired ; the guards 
strict and will not allow us to purchase anything; prisoners searched 
and everything taken from us ; some of the boys hide money in their 
shoes and stockings to prevent the rebels getting it. 

15th. Quite cool here and feel the loss of my overcoat and 
boots. 1 hope they will not do the scoundrel who took them any 
good. 

i6th. Took the cars this morning for Richmond ; we arrived 
here at 3. 00 P. M. Men tired and hungry ; marched from depot 
through the principal streets to the Pemberton building, opposite 
Libby, got one-fourth pound bread and one-fourth pound of beef; 
this is the second time we got anything to eat since we were captured. 
17th. Rations this morning consisted of about one-half pound 
of bread ;ind four ounces of beef to each man for the next 24 hours; 
men thinking of home and friends and anxious to be paroled or ex* 
changed. Talk of moving us to Libby, opposite here. They say it 
is a great deal worse than here, but I think it can hardly be any 
worse than this place. 

18th. 400 of us were removed this morning to Libby, weak 
and hungry. 

From the corner of a dingy brick building in one of the streets 
of Richmond, Va., may be seen a sign which tells the passeis-by 
that Libby & Son, ship chandlers and grocers, invite their patrons to 
this as the place where their business was conducted and where 
they must repair who were interested in bargains particularly as- 
sociated with their vocation. It was not of sufficient importance in 
time of peace to obtain a very wide celebrity, neither were the 
owners thereof so distinguished as to be of great notoriety, but as 
the inauguration of war has induced many into office who were 

[2] 



hitherto obscure and unknown, so the contingencies of our civil strife 
have opened this place to public gaze and made it famous, or rather 
infamous, before the world, besides confirming lustreless fame upon 
the proprietors. The very name of LIBBY has became synonomous 
with that ©f terror. It carries tyranny and oppression in its simple 
sound. The soldier who is taken prisoner in Virginia vale is at once 
haunted with visions of this darksome den and shrinks from entering 
a place so full of bitter experiences as this is known to be. Fierce 
hate and revenge reign supreme here, and consequently there is 
wrought out a system of discipline which produces a condition such 
as we might expect when the discordant elements of beings rage un- 
checked, and we are not surprised to find the culmination reached in 
almost fiendish expression. 

Thousands who have been in Libby will rehearse the story of 
their misery, want and woe to others ; these will pass them along to 
other listeners still, so that the echo will scarcely die out at the 
remotest period of the present generation. Households in coming 
time will gather about the fireside and talk of their friends and an. 
cestors who ended their da>'S in so much wretchedness because of 
their attachment to the Union, and as their bravery and heroism, 
their courage and constancy is admired, so will it be with malice 
and fury their persecutors are condemned. It may be, and prob- 
ably is, one of the essentials of war that places be provided for the 
confinement of prisoners, but they do not necessarily include every 
species of torment which the human is capable of conceiving. They 
should not naturally pre-suppose the absence of all humanity and 
the annihilation of every condition of comfortable existence as they 
have seemed to do in almost every part of the South where the 
Confederate authorities have opened these dens. 

The nights are very cold, and there being nothing but grat- 
ings in the windows, the men were obliged to walk the whole night 
long to keep from freezing, and if they can meet with the friendly 

[3] 



embrace of slumber at all, it was during the day when the sun 
would shed its kindly beams upon us and so impart sufficient warmth 
to our bodies to keep us from shivering. 

I have seen men draw their bean soup in their shoes for want 
of a cup or plate of any kind to put it in, and what seemed worse 
than all the rest, was the almost satanic rule that if a prisoner was 
caught resting his eyes upon the glad scenes of nature through a 
window, he must be quickly translated from the earth by a ball 
of a musket. The whole thing is atrocious in the extreme, but we 
can expect little else under the dome of the Confederate Capital, 
where the original framers of secession go in and out. 

Of the numbers who have been admitted' within the walls of 
the Libby building. I can scarcely speak, for multitudes have been 
conveyed thither, to remain only such time as they can be trans- 
ported to other places. Of the m.uiy thousands who have found 
transient homes here, 1 think their united testimony will be the same 
as mine. 

The Libby building is three stories high and eighty feet in 
width and one hundred and ten fet-t in length. In front the first 
story is on a level with the street, allowing a space for a tier of 
dungeons under the sidewalk, but in the rear the land sloped away 
till the basement floor rose above the ground. Upon passing inside 
we enter a room about furty feet wide and one hundred feet deep, 
with bare brick walls, a rough plank floor and narrow dingy win- 
dows. This room with five others of similiar size and two base- 
meuts floored with earth and filled with debris, composed the fam- 
ous Libby prison, in which for months, thousands of the best and 
bravest men that ever went to battle have been confined and al- 
lowed to rot, starve, and be overrun with vermin, perish with cold, 
breathe stifling, tainted athmosphere, no space allowed us to rest by 
day, and lying down at night wormed and dove-tailed together like 
so many fish in a basket. 

[4J 



The name of Libby prison will appear to the mind and memory 
of all Union soldiers as that place where all manner of cruelties have 
been practiced, and will not be forgotten as long as one of them 
treads the earth. Oh ! my country ! the misery and hardships I am 
suffering for thee ! 

Some of us had been secretly warned that we were going to be 
searched and that our money and ail our valuables would be taken 
from us. We hid our money in our shoe soles, buttons, and in any 
manner we thought would outwit the rebels. While we were thus 
engaged, a cruel looking rebel officer came in, followed by three 
rebel soldiers bearing a table and blank books, The officer called 
out: "Attention ! prisoners, form in line." Some guards were in 
front and rear of us and we were ordered not to move or talk. 

The officer then said; "1 am Major Turner. Provost-marshall 
of the City of Richmond, C. S. A. 1 am under instructions for my 
government to have you surrender to me your money and valuables. 
Your name, company and regiment will be carefully entered in this 
book, and when you are exchanged or paroled, it will all be returned 
to you ; for which 1 pledge the honor of the Confederate Govern- 
ment. 1 now give you an opportunity to save your money, and 
when I am through taking that which you surrender, you will be 
searched by men who are experts and all they find will be con- 
fiscated." 

One of our men requested permission to ask a question ; it was 
granted. The comrade said : "Major Turner, as much as you are 
acting in the matter of the Confederate Government, will you, as 
its agent, give us receipts of that government for our money ?" 
No Sir, I am not here to fool my time away ; I am ready to receive 
your money and valuables." Considerable money was given up. 
The searching gang came in (and they understood their calling.) 
The money put in the brass buttons was lost. They tried the 

[5] 



button with the jaw of a knife, and if the button did not mash, it was 
cut off, because there was something in it. They found consider- 
able money, but some was so well secured that it was not found. 
It is needless to say that we never had returned to us any of the 
money we gave up. 

October 19th. Rations to-day half a pound of bread and four 
ounces of beef. Our guards changed yesterday. I think we now 
have a better set of fellows than those we had. They are more an- 
xious to trade with us. Greenbacks in great demand ; seven Con* 
federate dollars for one of Uncle Sam's. 

20th. Rations about the same as yesterday. We are thinking 
of home and friends. I have written a letter to my mother in 
Bristol, Bucks Co., Pa., to let her know of my capture and where 
1 am. I hope she will get it, as 1 am anxious to hear from home. 

2ist. Rations served out early tliis morning. I have forgotten 
to mention before that there are about six hundred prisoners in this 
room, divided ihto squads of twenty. One man draws the rations 
for the twenty and cuts it up. Each man has a number from one to 
twenty. The twenty rations are put out separately on the floor, and 
one turns his back and the sergeant points to a ration and says, 
"Who takes this ?" and the man with his back turned to the ration 
says- "one," "two," "five" or "ten," as the case may be, on up 
till the twenty are served. This is done to prevent the sergeant 
from showing any favor to any particular one. 

22d. Rations the same as yesterday. The men despondent 
and anxious to get paroled or exchanged soon. There is a great 
deal of trading going on here in the evenings. 

23d. Rations very small to-day; a mixture of corn meal and 
flour and only get about four ounces of that, and about three ounces 
of raw, half rotten bacon for the next twenty-four hours. 

24th. Rations about the same as yesterday. Great rumors 
of a parole this morning. 1 wish they would hurry, as we are tired 
of this place and treatment. 

[6J 



25th. Haifa loaf of corn bread and about a mouthful of beef. 
The rebels say their men only get the same amount. I hardly credit 
that, as they have an opportunity to get more. 

26th. Greenbacks in great demand this morning ; nine in Con- 
federate for one greenback, as they are called here, So you see 
Yankee money is considered the best by far right here in the hotbed 
of secession, 

27th. Prisoners busy making bone rings, tooth picks, chains, 
etc., and selling them t© the guards. And selling boots, shoes, shirts, 
blankets, and in fact anything in order to get something to eat. 
Men very hungry--a great many weak and sick with hunger. Little 
we thought we would ever be in this perdicament. I wonder if our 
government knov/s how we are treated. I hardly think the rebel 
prisoners in the North are treated like we unfortunate beings. 

28th, No change in our rations. We hardly get enough food 
to sustain life. We cannot live on this treatment long. Some of 
the prisoners snatch bread and sausage from the guards who want to 
trade. They snatch it in the dark and then run among the crowd, 
and of course the guards go in after them; but trade in the dark for 
Confederate money. We will do almost anything to get something 
to eat. Some of the poor fellows are in such a state of starvation 
that they are reduced to mere skeletons and cannot live very long. 

29th. Rations about three-quarters of a pound of bread, no 
meat, but a bucketful of bean soup for each twenty men, about 
twenty beans to the bucket — nothing more than warm water. It has 
the name of bean soup and that is all. Oh ! what stuff ! but we are 
glad to get almost anything to try to stop the cravings of hunger. 
God help us ! If our friends in the North would see us and the 
pitiful condition we are in, it would bring tears to their eyes. 
Fathers, brothers and lovers doomed to a death of starvation among 
the F. F. V's ; in the Sunny South, that land of boasted benevolence. 
Oh ! what a pity that so many brave fellows must die this way. 

[7] 



Better for us if they would take us out in an open space and place 
us before a battery of cannon and blew us to pieces, than have us 
dying this way by inches. Some one will have a tremendous ac- 
count to settle at the last day. To fall in battle is bad enough, but 
to be doomed to a hell of torture and misery is worse than a thous- 
and deaths. 

30th. Rations the same as yesterday. The guards are more 
careful in trading, and it is dangerous to snatch any more from them. 
They swear they will shoot. Ten of our men were taken out to the 
hospital from here this morning. That is the last of them, poor 
fellows. There were two of my regiment among them. We will 
never see them any more, as they are more dead than alive. 

31st. Rations about half a pound of bread and about four 
ounces of beef to-day. These are the best rations we have received 
for over a week. Men very anxious to be exchanged so that we can 
get into our lines once more. 

November i. 1863. Some of the prisoners altering one dollar 
greenbacks into tens and succeed in passing them on the guards, 
who were furious when they discovered the fraud, but they have no 
redress as they are not allowed to trade with the prisoners. The 
guards content themselves by vowing vengeance. 

2d, Great talk of sending us to Pemberton building, our old 
quarters, opposite here, They say they must make room for some 
officers that were captured and that Libby is going to be for them, 
so that all the officers will be in one place. Well, I think that the 
change will be for the better for us. as Pemberton is much brighter 
and we will have the sun shining in on us almost all the day, and 
that is quite a comfort, for in this place we cannot see the sun more 
than two hours any day. 

3d. Moved to Pemberton this morning, and as a consequence, 
we did not get our rations till three o'clock this afternoon, almost 
starved waiting and not much when we did get it; four ounces of 
bread and two ounces of beef. 

[8J 



4th. Things same as yesterday. 

5th. Rations a little better to-day. Guards sliot at one of the 
prisoners this morning because he was looking out of the window. 
The rebels shoot a prisoner for looking at the light of heaven. 

6th. No change in the programme lo-day. Have nothing of 
interest to put down in my diary but hardships and misery, and 
plenty of that. No one can form an idea of what suffering there is 
here, and no pen can describe the hardships we have to endure, all 
through bad management in some department, either Union or rebel. 
There is talk of sending a petition to Washington to see if we cannot 
be gotten out of here. Our government ^liould not allow its citizens 
and soldiers to remain in rebel prisons to rot and die. The rebels 
blame our government. 

7th, About a dozen of our men taken to the hospital, among 
them one of my company Don't expect to see the poor fellow 
again. One of the guards said to-day that they only take them to 
the hospital to get tiiem ready for burial, and advised us all to stay 
where we are if we had any one to care for us, as at the hospital 
the doctors are all young fellows who have no experience and only 
practice on the prisoners. The old doctors are with the army tend- 
ing to their own men. 

8th. Saw Capt. D. B Meany, of my company, at the window 
in Libby, opposite here. They say that the officers have all they 
can to eat. 1 wish we could say so. 

9th. Rations three-quarters of a pound of corn dodger and 
about half a pint of bean soup for to-day. We are used to this and 
there is no use grumbling but make the best of it. 

lOth. Great excitement in the building this morning. One of 
the guards said we would be on our way home in a week, 1 hope 
so ; Richmond and I willwillingly part. There is something the mat- 
ter to-day ; we can hear the bells ringing. The guards say they are 
rejoicing over some victory. I hope not. I don't want to hear any- 
thing like that. 

[QJ 



nth. Rations about the same; no change. Boys are getting 
slim of clothing, and in consequence are almost frozen these morn- 
ings. This place is filthy and full of gray-backs. 

i2th. There is great talk of our government going to send us 
something to eat. We would rather they would send for us. We 
would not require much coaxing. 

13th. Rations half a loaf of corn bread, to last till this time 
to-morrow. The doctor is in the building now and he is examining 
tlie sick, sending the worst cases to the hospital. He said our gov- 
ernment is sending us provisions and that they are at City Point 
now. Well, if that is the case, there is very little chance for parole 
or exchange this year. 

14th. It is hardly worth my while to say what we had to eat 
to-day. but 1 must say something. Can see the rebel capitol and the 
dirty rag on top. We have a good view of it from here, it stands 
on high ground, almost in the centre of the city. Half a loaf of corn 
dodger and a spoonful of molasses to-day. 

15th. Doctor in again this morning and sent five to the hos- 
pital. One of the prisoners died here last night. Cannot learn his 
name, but he is from some New York regiment. The Doctor said 
the provisions from our lines arrived this morning. One of the guards 
said he was going to have seme of the Yankee grub or it would not 
be his fault. I expect they will get more of it than we will. 

i6th, One month in Richmond to-day. Little I thought they 
would keep us a month in this place. Rations very poor to-day, 

17th. Reported to-day that all the Yankees in Richmond are 
going to be vaccinated. 

18th. I went to the canal this morning with a squad of prison- 
ers to get some water. Saw my Captain (D. B. Meany,) and had 
a friendly salute from him. He threw me a loaf of corn dodger. It 
was a god-send, for I was very hungry. 

[loj 



igth. Nothing but a half a loaf of dodger to-day. The guards 
say that Uncle Sam's rations will be issued to us to-morrow. Two 
prisoners died this afternoon from starvation. What fine looking 
fellows they were one month ago. Now they are mere skeletons. 

2oth. First of Uncle Sam's rations to-day. Quarter-pound of 
corn dodger, large biscuits and about half a pound of corn beef. 
Men feel more cheerful. 

2ist. Rations about the same as yesterday. Prisoners in high 
glee and think that something is going to happen when there is such 
a change in the programme. 

22d. Great excitement this morning about the exchange of 
prisoners. The prisoned officers across the street in Libby shout to 
us that all is right now, that the Cartell has been resumed and all 
hands are going to be exchanged. 

23d. Rations about the same as yesterday and we feel better. 
The rebs say we will get fat now since we are getting the extra 
rations. I thirik there are some here who will never get fat. Poor 
fellows ! 1 have not received an answer to the letter I sent my 
mother in Bristol. Sent anotiier to-day. Told her to send me a 
box for a Christmas present and put some shirts and notions in it. 
The rebel officers in charge of us say that any of the prisoners who 
wish to send word home for anything like clothing and edibles could 
receive them, as an agreement has been entered into by the com- 
missioners on both sides. 

24th. Rations good to-day. Have as much as we want now. 
Some of the prisoners who are weak eat too much since the U. S. 
rations came in and it almost killed them. Several taken to the hos- 
pital this morning in a poor condition. They are never taken from 
here until they are about dead. 

25th. Very cold last night and a cold rain this morning. This 
is hard on us, as we have hardly any clothing. And oh ! how filthy 

[H] 



it is here ! The prisoners busy themselves two or three times a day 
to try and rid themselves of the vermin which are crawling all 
around. There are about three hundred of us on this floor, and as 
many more on the second and third. 

The following is a poem composed by one of my fellow prison- 
ers and which I have copied : 

Three hundred we are. all shattered and worn ; 

Some by shells and bullets torn. 
Three hundred we are, in one small room, 

Paled by air and poisonous gloem. 
Three hundred patriots, mark it well, 

From many a quite northern dell. 

Bow, our kindred, bow in shame, 

We have lost our manhood's name, 
And to our general's stern decree 

We bow a feeble, childish knee. 
Crawl like worms the freeman spurn ; 

The oil of pride has ceased to burn. 

Who is the general ? you may say, 

That drills our noble boys this way ? 

Their manhood's gone, they lap the dust; 
Like worms, shrink from a foeman's thrust. 

My boy with craven heart left not 
The shadow of our humble cot. 

My husband, brother, too, are there. 

No braver have their country's prayer. 

Yet mothers, sisters, wives, 'tis true. 
Who pity us, will pity you. 

Starvation is our General's name. 

Let history write the page of shame. 

He comes at early dawn; at noon, 

At night he whirls his pale platoon 
In gastly line against the wall, 

Like shades in death's Erebus hall, 
His white pageant of polished bone 

Gleamed like a mounted marble stone. 

[•2] 



His sword clanks against a fleshless thigh. 

He views us with a nervous eye. 
Like castanets, his gauntlets play 

Upon his bloodless arm all day. 
And bow we must, with hearts so drear, 

Like the humble beings we all are here. 

'Tis General Starvation, mother dear, 

I know ''twill bring the willing tear. 
When 1 shall all the horrors tell, 

Who reigns within this noisome cell 
And starts my hand to trembling now, 

And brings beads of sweat to my heated brow. 

'Tis he who at my elbow sits, 

And ever 'fore my vision flits ; 
That makes this form a tottering pile, 

Or crawling like the beast of gile. 
His edicts, though cruel they be, 

Fall heavier on you than me. 

Yet mother when the time shall come. 

And this sad wreck of life reach home, 
The altar of his soul shall burn 

No more on earth. The smouldering urn 
Alone shall give a flickering flame 

To light the dying soldier's name. 

Nation's need he can no more supply, 

"Go for your country and nobly die." 
Those were my words through battle storms. 

My heart has kept them ever warm. 
Now must this country a father be 

An ever faithful friend to thee. 

One scanty mea! per day he brings. 
On four and twenty leaden wings ; 

These wings are hours, long and rife 
With clamoring elements of life. 

Harrowing howls with senseless cry, 
With bloodless lips and sockless eye. 

Sits the grim visage of despair. 
And peers in with idiotic stare. 

While patience waits, and faints and dies. 

Richmond, Va., Libby Prison, Nov. i, 1863, 

[ijj 



26th. Rations very good for the last four or five days, but am 
afraid it will not last long. 

27th. Rations for to-day three-quarters of a pound of biscuit 
and half a pound of beef. The doctor paid us a visit and said we 
were getting fat living so high. The guards will not allow us any 
privileges at all and say their government ought to shoot every 
d — n Yankee that is captured. 

28th. Bitter cold last night ; no blankets ; some of the prison- 
ers have hardly enough clothing to cover their nakedness ; rebels 
took almost everything when we were captured, 

29th. Two doctors here this morning and they say that all 
hands must be vaccinated at once, that being their orders from the 
Confederate Government ; no rations to be issued in this room till 
the work is performed, so the quicker it is done the better. 

30th. Sergeant Webb, of my company (B [3, P. V. C.,) and 
myself were vaccinated yesterday and immediately washed it off and 
put the cloth on again to close the guard's eye. Usual quantity of 
rations ; raining hard ; prisoners making bone rings, trinkets, etc. 
They want to take something home to remember this infernal 
place. I, for myself, need no reminder. 

December i, 1863. Rations not as large as yesterday but it 
does not do any good to growl. This building was formerly a tobacco 
warehouse, thirty feet wide and ninety feet deep, i'.nd contains 
three floors. There are about seven hundred prisoners here, and a 
dirtier, smokier, drearier and more unhealthy place, 1 cannot imagine 
where so many are huddled together. The poor fellows have little 
or no clothing, and what we have is filthy and ragged. 

We are compelled to eat and sleep as best we can. We are 
treated more like hogs than men. Just think of it ! about three 
hundred men in a space 30 x 90 feet, lying all over the floor. If you 
want to go from one place to another, you have to walk on top of 

['4] 



those who are lying down, then you are called all the fancy names 
imaginable; very fancy indeed. It is a wonder some of them are 
not black in the face in the morning, after using such language. 
Pity the poor fellow who is caught walking, for he is sure to get a 
sore head, as they shove him from one to another until they almost 
knock the daylights out of him. One poor, unfortunate fellow got 
badly pounded last night. There is very little mercy shown, so 
the best thing to do is to lie still until daylight. If we have to en- 
dure this long. I venture to say one-half of us will die before a month 
with desease. 

2d. Rations a little better than yesterday. I hardly know 
what to put in my diary. It is always the same old thing. But I 
mustdosomething topassaway the time, besidescatchinggray-backs. 
If they once get the best of you, it is a great deal of trouble to get 
rid of them. Some of the men here are neglecting to do it, and they 
are so despondent and do not seem to care what will become of them- 
selves, and of course that makes it bad for those who are trying to 
keep themselves clear. Language will fail to convey any of the in- 
tense wretchedness one is compelled to endure in prison life in the 
South. A few who are themselves actors in the tragic scenes may 
rehearse the story of our individual experience and thus furnish a key, 
as it were, to unlock the gates throuijh which others may enter and 
take a look. This is the only way in which the people at large can 
become acquainted with this thrilling portion of the war, and authentic 
and reliable statements are, therefore, of deep interest and impor- 
tance. 

3d. Rations took a little change this morning— half a loaf of 
corn bread instead of biscuit, with about six ounces of beef and about 
a half a pint of soup. Some of the men have nothing to put their 
soup in, and there is a great borrowing of cups, as not one-half of 
the prisoners have anything to get their rations in. and in many in. 
stances use their hats and shoes for that purpose. The guards say 

[•5J 



we are lucky compared with the prisoners in the other buildings In 
Richmond. Rumor says that 1500 prisoners have arrived in Rich- 
mond inside of ten days. 

4th. Rations about the same as yesterday ; no change worth 
mentioning. 

5th. Prisoners at the old trade of exchanging with the guards 
for tobacco. I am glad I do not use the weed. Rations four biscuits 
and about four ounces of pork and half a pint of bean soup for to-day. 
Froze hard last night and quite a snow this morning. The guards 
say it is an unusual thing for this section. We can see the rebel 
capito! from here and a flag on each end of it. From the view I can 
get from the windows here, Riclimond appears to be quite a large 
place and contains some handsome buildings. Our windows are 
iron barred like a Northern prison, and the guards will shoot anyone 
who sticks his hands out or gets too close to the bars. 

6th. Rations same as yesterday. The guards say to us : 
"Uuns are eaten' uuns' rations fast, and uuns will soon have to eat 
the corn dodger like we 'uns." That is the Southern dialect. 

7th. Doctors in this morning examining the sick. A great many 
of the prisoners have sore arms from the effect of the vaccination. 
The doctors say they cannot account for it without it is that our 
blood is in poor condition. For the life of me I cannot see how it 
could be otherwise m such an infernal place as this. 

8th. Things beginning to look blue for us since the cutting 
down of the U. S. rations. We now only receive about half the 
quantity we did formerly. Several of the boys taken out to the hos- 
pital to-day with their arms in a dreadful condition. I am glad that 
I washed my vaccination out, or 1 would be in the same fix as those 
poor fellows. 

9th. Rations two biscuits and about four ounces of pork per 
man. 

[16] 



loth. Half a loaf of corn dodger, two biscuits and four ounces 
of beef ; better than yesterday. We are glad of that, as yesterday's 
rations did not last long. I am under the weather to-day and cannot 
do or say much. One thing 1 must do as long as I can sit up, and 
that is what we call "louse." We are not particular who sees us, 
for all must perform the same work two or three times a day. 

nth. Some of the prisoners have died from the effects of the 
vaccination, which gave them such sore arms. It is distressing to 
hear the moans of the poor fellows. They say that the vaccine was 
poisoned purposely to kill us. One of the guards boasted of it and 
said it was true. One of the prisoners was taken out to the hospital 
and had his arm amputated below the shoulder. The young doctors 
say they must have something to practice on and that a Yankee 
will answer the purpose as well as anything else. Rations the same 
as yesterday. 

I2th. Two months a prisoner to-day. What a change in my 
condition. I believe I am 25 pounds lighter. When 1 came in here I 
was clean and in good health. Now 1 am in poor health and 1 am 
sorry to say dirty and my rags are full of vermin. 

13th. Rations for to-day three biscuits and about four ounces 
of beef ; better than we have received for some time. 

14th. Quite sick this morning and cannot get up off the floor. 
A severe headache, neck and head swollen, cannot go after my rations 
I feel so bad, but I hope 1 will be better to-morrow. 

15th. Not any better to-day. 1 have not tasted anything since 
this time yesterday. 

i6th. A little better this morning. Almost frozen lying on the 
ground without anything under or over me. I ate a little soup to- 
day. I don't care for the rations. 

17th. Feel much better to-day. I think it must be a heavy 
cold that 1 have, as I feel my bones all sore. About three hundred 

[17J 



eavalry prisoners passed by here this morning on their way to Bar- 
rett's prison, about two blocks down from us. They were well 
fixed ; the most of them have their overcoats and look well. Poor 
fellows ! they won't look so well two months from now. 

i8th. One-half of the prisoners will die from sore arms. They 
say that it is the same in the rest of the Richmond prisons. Some 
of the best men in the world are almost falling to pieces through the 
treachery and malice of the doctor against the Northern soldier. 
Brady of my company died to-day from the effects of the vaccine, 
his arm almost falling off. Poor fellow, how he suffered. This is 
getting to be a horribly sickening place, with suffering of all kinds, 
disease and starvation. 

19th. Prison rations about the same. Not enough change the 
last three or four days to mention. The rebel guards say that 
there are five or six amputations every day now in the hospital, and 
it gives the young doctors a chance to practice in that line. While 
we were talking, one of the guards came up and said he was on 
guard at the hospital day before yesterday and was a witness to 
twelve amputations in four hours, three dying while under the in. 
fluence of either. The guards say they will all die as there is no 
care taken of them after the amputation. 

20th. The rebel quartermaster came into the building this 
morning and read off a long list of names, saying there were boxes 
for them from the North and to come and get them. While he 
was reading off the list, you could have heard a pin drop. Among the 
list was my name. Oh ! how glad I was when I heard that name ! 
About twenty of us went over to the quartermaster's storehouse and 
sure enough the boxes were there. We had to open them in the 
presence of the officer and two of the guards. He took everything 
out that he thought unlawful to pass into our hands. He took a book 
from my box called "The Collegians of Ireland," but I said nothing, 
for if I did, he would not let me have it at all. so I carried the box 

[18] 



over to the prison on my shoulder. A happier set of fellows never 
walked into Pemberton than we, with the boxes. The other poor 
fellows gathered around us to see the good things from home. My 
box contained one large sweet cake, tea, coffee and sugar, salt, 
pepper, writing paper and envelopes, two pairs of drawers and shirts, 
which 1 needed badly, stockings and several other things very useful 
in a place like this. It came in time for a Christmas present and 
more appreciated than any I ever received. 

2ist, Some of those that received boxes yesterday had some of 
the things stolen from them last night. Mine is safe. I had some 
tea this morning. How good it tasted. Gave some to three or four 
of the sick boys who are close to me. 1 wish 1 had enough to give 
them all some. Three or four of us belonging to the one company 
are going to keep watch over it by turns. And of course 1 have to 
pony up with them. If I don't do that, it will be all stolen from me 
in one night. 

22d. Prison rations I care very little for at present. I forgot 
to say 1 received a ham and two dried beef tongues. How 1 do 
enjov to go to my box and take a piece of boiled ham. I think it is 
the best thing 1 ever ate. 

23d. I don't feel very well this morniny. Probabl\ been eat- 
ing too much. I must be a little careful liow 1 eat. it is very strange 
1 do not get a letter from home. 1 sent two and they must have re- 
ceived them, or I would not have received the box Three of us 
who received boxes got one of the guards to bring us in an armful of 
woed for us to cook our tea and coffee, .^nd we paid him three dollars 
in Confederate money, which is equal to thirty cents in our money. 

24th. Webb and Gallagher, two of my company, watched my 
box last night. Culberson and myself go on watch to-night. There 
is a great deal of stealing among the prisoners, and starvation is the 
cause of it all. 

[19J 



asth. Christmas Day, 1863, and still in the Confederacy. 
Thinking of our friends at home, enjoying themselves, and the con- 
dition we are in. The most barbarous country would hardly treat 
a prisoner thus. One of my regiment died last night. It was a re- 
lief to a great deal of suffering. There was a hole under his arm 
large enough to put your fist in. Rations two biscuits, half a loaf 
of corn dodger and two spoonfuls of molasses, for our Christmas 
preseut, hut I will attend to my box to-day. 

The Richmond papers state that the stench from the prison is 
endangering the health and the lives of all in the City, and it would 
be well to remove these "Lincoln hirelings" to where scant fare and 
cold weather would reduce them in number ; consequently we will 
be removed to Bell Isle. 

26th. Great talk of sending us to Bell Isle, but I hope they 
won't, for it has a dreadful name and there is no shelter there. To 
take us out of this building and put us on Bell Island would wind up 
our career, as two-thirds of us have barely enough clothing to cover 
our nakedness, not speaking of keeping us from freezing. 

27th. Orders given for us to be ready to go to Bell Isle at two 
o'clock this afternoon, and pass the balance of the winter there. 
There are a great many of the prisoners here who cannot walk, and 
of course must be left behind. All hands move as soon as they get 
their rations, so the quartermaster said, "and get over to Bell Isle ; 
Tote all your dirty rags with yo 'uns, as we won't have them here 
with we 'uns. " One of the boys spoke up and said we would leave 
them with him for a New Year's present. 1 did not think so many 
of our number were disabled. I really believe that one half of them 
cannot get up. What agony when comrades must part in this way, 
knowing full well that we will never see each other again. Two 
brothers from a New York regiment, one of them almost dead and the 
other was taking care of him. and now they must part. They tried 
hard not to be parted, but they were not allowed to stay together. 

[20J 



This is part of the horrors of war. Some of the boys did shed tears 
notwithstanding their hardened hearts. 

28th. About five hundred of us marched from Pemberton prison 
across the bridge to the other side of the James river, opposite Rich- 
mond, and then crossed a small bridge which brought us to Bell Isle. 
The space to be occupied by the prisoners is about six acres, en- 
closed by an earthwork three or four feet high, and with a ditch about 
five feet deep and six wide, to prevent any of the prisoners coming 
near to the grounds. There are about five thousand prisoners here. 
The part occupied by us is a low, sandy, barren waste, without the 
shadow of a single tree, and exposed to the chilly damp winds, with 
only a few tents with which about half of our number are protected 
from the severe cold and the other half are lying on the ground be- 
tween the tents to keep the cold wind from them as much as possible. 

29th. I was lucky in getting into one of the tents, so did 
Webb and Culberson. The reason we got in this tent was on ac- 
count of what we had in our haversack out of the boxes. There are 
ten of us in this tent, if 1 may call it that, and 1 promised to pony up 
with them. Webb and I went to work and made a large can of coffee 
for all hands. Those poor fellows, how they enjoyed it. This is a 
horrible place. Pemberton we thought was bad, but nothing com- 
pared to Bell Isle. Very cold last night. 

30th. Rations for the next twenty -four hours— about three- 
fourths pound of corn dodger and two spoonsful of molasses to each 
man. Prisoners dying very fast here. A number of Pemberton men 
died last night. They say Uncle Sam's rations are all gone. Re- 
sorted to box and got a cup of tea, some cake and ham. 

31st. Four hundred more crossed from Barrett's prison for here 
this morning. It is dreadfully cold on the Island this morning, It is 
not strange that life under these circumstances should become weary. 
It is a sad thing to have established on the pages of history. These 
poor defenseless soldiers not only to be deprived of their arms which 

[21] 



were so much their pride to bear and their glory to wield, but also 
deprived of every personal comfort and convenience and compelled 
to lie down exposed to the frowning elements of nature, and the 
still more pitiless abuse of mankind. It were scarcely possible to 
conceive of more persistent wholesale misery, deliberately heaped 
upon men, than agents of Southern malice have poured upon their 
Northern kindred. The tortures of the inquisition were horrible and 
we shrink with horror as we peruse the history of that period, 
Those terrible pages telling us how the flames rose from the fast 
kindling faggots and curled above the form of the martyrs as they 
were tied to the stake, have a power to stir our souls within us to 
their utmost depth, but who will say they are more dreadful than 
the slow burnings which eat out the vitals, leaving the tenement 
of clay a mere wreck before the spirit quits its frail abode, more to 
be feared than the lightening which prevents the play of life, more 
sure than the anaconda's grasp or the tiger's embrace. 

There are some of these things which have to be taken as the 
natural consequences of war, but some of them are not. We know 
that the misfortunes and chances of war are privations, exposures 
and suffering, v>'hich is the inevitable lot of those who engage in the 
service, but we seldom hear our willing soldiers complain of these ; 
it is the inhuman and inexcusable treatment they receive as prison- 
ers. They bear their misfortunes bravely and patriotically, blaming 
only the conduct of our merciless enemies. Later in the history of 
this war, the people will become acquainted with the treatment of 
Union soldiers in the various Southern prisons. 

January i, 1864. Ten or twelve died last night, one out of my 
regiment. About one-half of the prisoners that were captured at the 
time 1 was, are sick. Rations very small and the good things that 1 
got from home are almost gone. 

2d; Rations three-fourths of a pound of corn dodger and a pint 
of bean soup for the next twenty-four hours. Hardly any of the 

[22J 



prisoners have anything to get their soup in, and it would make 
your heart bleed to see tlie poor fellows trying to get their soup in 
their caps and anything that will hold it. Two hundred more pris- 
oners came in here this morning. They were captured at the 
Rapidan. They have their overcoats and blankets. Lucky fellows ! 
as they will have to sleep in the open air and on frosty ground. 

3d. Received a It-tter from my mother this morning. It was 
dated Bristol, Nov. 15111, 1863. There were about four hundred 
letters for the boys. Walter Webb, my comrade, was very sick this 
morning ; made him a little tea. I must keep the tea and coffee for 
ourselves in case of sickness. 

Some of the new prisoners have plenty of money and keep up a 
general trading with the guards, buying butter, eggs and wheat 
bread. I forgot to mention that we are divided into squads of 
twenty, and one man goes outside prison lines with the guard and 
brings in three sticks cord wood for the twenty men, and after that 
is divided up, we have to wait our turn for the axe, there being only 
three on the Island. We have not received any soap since we came 
here. We look like a lot of colored persons, 

4th. Great demand for greenbacks ; ten in Confederate for one 
of ours. Prison rations the same for the last four or five days ; 
several fellows had their feet frozen last night and quite a number 
taken to the hospital this morning. A little time on this island will 
soon make one a fit subject for the hospital. 

5th. Heavy rains this morning and freezing. Poor fellows 
sitting around small fires in some of the tents, with wet green wood 
burning. 

6th. Rations same as yesterday. Great many of the prisoners 
sick now ; Bell Isle's history will be dreadful. 

7th. Rations to-day half a loaf of corn bread and half a pint of 
boiled rice. 

[23] 



8th. Rations same as yesterday. Have a little left from the 
box yet, but very careful of it. Had a cup of coffee this morning. 
Froze hard last night and about six hundred of the prisoners who 
came in last night were almost frozen to death, not having any shelter. 

9th. No change in the rations for the last two or three days. 
The part of the Island I occupy is ttie part nearest Richmond and 
washed on both sides by the James river, 

At the place where the river unites again, the point of land run- 
ning in between is very narrow, and here the prisoners meet in hun- 
dreds all day long to wash and draw water. You may think it is a 
very nice place, but no person can form any idea of Bell isle as it 
appeared to us unfortunate creatures. It is very much crowded now, 
about eight or nine thousand prisoners being here, naked and hungry, 
and shivering with cold and suffering with vermin. And then you 
cannot walk five yards without meeting men ansv/erinu to the call of 
nature, diarrhoea being very prevalent, rendering the camp a wilder- 
ness of filth, which requires a company of prison police to clean 
every day. Hogs are better cared for than us poor prisoners who are 
in the South. 1 wonder if our government knows how we are suf- 
fering in this hell upon earth. 

lOth. Rations half a loaf of corn bread. Froze hard again last 
night. 

I ith. Rations as usual ; the same kind and quantity ; no change 
whatever in the bill of fare. Sometimes when I look around and see 
so many fine fellows carried out dead, I think I will not write any 
more in my diary, expecting that the same will soon be my lot, and 
my diary would never be sent home to my friends. But then, again, 
1 think 1 may probably pull through, and that spurs me on. It oc- 
cupies my mind for a time at least. 

i2th. No change in rations. One of the prisoners was shot at 
by a guard this morning. The poor fellow saw a small piece of 
wood near the ditch, and in attempting to pick it up, he fell on the 

[24] 



ice", and as he was straightening himself up, a guard shot him 
through the lungs. He died in about an hour aftc-rwiirds. Our 
lives are not safe here for one moment. 

A sentinel may at any time of the day or night deliberately 
shoot any prisoner or fire into a group and he is not even taken off 
his post or the least attention paid to it. 

13th. Rations half a loaf of some kind of stuff, I don't know 
what to call it. It is cobs all ground up and raw, also half a pint of 
rice. 

14th. Resorted to the contents of the box this morning. 
Rations half a loaf of bread and two small raw turnips. The rebels 
say the turnips will give us an appetite and help us digest the corn 
dodger. 

15th. It is reported that the flag of truce boat arrived this 
morning with political prisoners and that they are going to send a 
boat load of us North. I do hope that I will be one of the lucky 
ones. Rations a little better than usual. 

i6th. Some of the guards reported that Commissioner Auld 
(rebel) went to City Point to meet General Butler to make ar- 
rangements for exchange of prisoners. Rations same as yesterday. 

17th. About five hundred more prisoners came on the Island 
to-day from Richmond. They say they are going to send all the 
Yankees they have in Richmond on this Island, so as to freeze them 
and get rid of them. Rations about the same, It is hardly worth 
while to mention rations and the quantity. There is not enough 
change to be of any importance. 

i8th. Railroad trains running all night towards the South. 
The guards say they are sending re-inforcements to Longstreet, who, 
the rebel papers say, was badly cut up. 

19th. Three men found dead this morning ; dying of starvation ; 
no rations at all to-day ; many taken to the hospital. 

[25J 



20th. Rations three-fourths of a pound of bread, half a pint of 
boiled rice, and about a gill of molasses. They say it is to make up 
for not getting anything yesterday. 

2ist. The prison police receive extra rations; and well they 
earn it ; they carry the filth away in tubs and empty it in the James 
river Heavy rain last night and this morning. 

22d. We got rice soup and dodger thismorning. One prisoner 
stabbed another to-day, the result of an altercation. 

23d. Great joy this morning owing to the news of a speedy 
exchange and that every prisoner in Richmond and vicinity would be 
paroled or exchanged before the first of the month. 
24th and 25th. Nothing transpiring. 

26th. Guards report great excitement in Richmond about our 
cavalry making a raid on the city. 

31st. Rations for the last four or five days the same, and 1 
thought it was no use to use my diary, as 1 had nothing to put in it 
but starvation and suffering. 

February 2, 1864. About five hundred prisoners came in here 
to-day. They were captured at the Rapidan and they say our army 
is in fine condition for the Spring campaign. Some of them cannot 
eat the prison rations, and as they have money, they can trade with 
the guards. They can get one hundred dollars in Confederate notes 
for a tf n dolhir bill of our money. 

5th. The pii'-oners who arrived tiie second bought some beans, 
eggs and sausages from the guards and cannot get them cooked right ; 
it is making them sick to eat it. 1 saw one of the prisoners gather 
up what one of them vomited, wash it off, cook it over again and eat 
it Starvation will make us do anything. 

Orders received here this morning that some of us would be sent 
to Pemberton prison and from there to City Point for exchange. 
About five hundred of us were taken out this afternoon and brought 

[26J 



over to the old place. Some say for exchange but others say that 
we are going to be sent to Georgia, 

7th. Saw Captain IVleaney, of my company, had a friendly 
salute from him. He made signs with his hands indicating that we 
were bound for Georgia. Rations to-day just twice as much as we 
received on Bell Isle. The men are in good spirits, thinking they 
are going to be exchanged Some new prisoners came in to-day and 
were taken to Libby to be searched. Reports have it that Kilpatrick 
is making a raid on Richmond. The guards will not talk to us. One 
of them fired a shot from the guard room up through the floor. The 
ball passed through the third floor ; on its way it struck one of the 
men on the finger and smashed it. Another man was struck on the 
head but not fatally, while standing at the window, and two other 
prisoners had narrow escapes, having been fired nt. Possibly they 
are furious because of Kilpatrick's raid. It is cviJeut they are 
alarmed at something. 

8th. Left building this morning at 4.00 o'clock and marched to 
the depot and took the cars. The guards say we are going to Georgia 
(that is the exchange.) Each man receives a loaf of corn bread as 
he marches out of the building. There are six hundred of us, about 
sixty of us packed in each car. No seats, but lying in all positions 
tall swearing and fighting; remain in the cars all night. 

9th. Arrived here at Raleigh, North Carolina, at 4.00 P. M., 
and will remain here all night. 

lOth. Four or five prisoners made their escape last night and 
several died in the cars. Started for Branchville, South Carolina, 
this morning. 

nth. Arrived at Branchville this afternoon and changed cars 
and guards. Last time wr will change until we get to Andersonville, 
Georgia, 

12th. Several prisoners jumped off the cars on the Georgia 
Central Railroad in the night and made their escape, Several men 
too sick to take from Raleigh, so were left behind. X 

[27] / 



1 3th. Drawing close to Macon, Georgia,, and the guards say 
we will remain there til! morning and get something to eat. Arrived 
at Macon at about 9.00 P. M. 

14th. Start out for Andersonville this morning ; it is about 
40 miles from here and we expect to get there about 2.00 o'clock this 
afternoon, I wish we were there, for I am tired of being in these 
old freight cars for the last four or five days. 



Andersonville, 



February 15th. Our train, after groaning and creaking along 
for five or six days, during which time there were many adventures, 
escapes and re-captures, at last reached its destination. The trip 
from Macon was nearly soutli over a railroad passing through a con- 
tinuous stretch of dense pine woods and vine-tangled swamps. After 
a run of sixty miles from Macon, we stopped in a clearing, where 
there were few houses, and which we learned was Andersonville. 

We were taken from the cars to an open piece of ground just east 
of the station. Looking eastward about a quarter of a mile we 
could see an immense stockade. The last few days of our journey 
we had no water and suffered from thirst ; the car that 1 was in had 
been used for haulidg lime, and had half an inch of lime on the floor. 
When they loaded us in at Richmond, Va., they put about sixty men 
in each car and any moving around would stir up the dust. Our lips 
and tongues seemed parched and cracked ; two died in our car on this 
trip. 

There was a small brook within two rods of us, but the guard 
line was between us and the water. I was pleading with the guards 
to let us go to the water when a little grinning-faced rebel captain 
on a gray horse rode up and shook a revolver in my face and said : 

"You Yankee, you must vait, or you got so much vater wat 

you drown in putty quick." He rode around us several times, 

[28J 



bounding high in his saddle, flourishing a revolver and swearing at 
the guards and us alternately ; by this time we learned that this was 
Captain Wirz. the Commander of the prison. 

We were ordered forward towards the big stockade, moving 
quitely and painfully along, our spirits almost crushed within us, 
urged on by the double file of guards on either side of our column 
of ragged, lousy skeletons, who scarce had strength to run away if 
given an opportunity. We neared the wall of great square logs, and 
massive wooden gates, that were to shut out hope and life from 
nearly all of us forever. The cheerless sight near the gate, of a pile 
of ghastly dead, the eyes of which shone with a stony glitter, the 
faces black with smoky grime and pinched with pain and hunger, 
the long matted hair, and almost fleshtess frames swarming with 
vermin— gave us some idea that a like fate awaited us inside. 

The guards knowing our desperation, used every precaution to 
prevent a break ; the artillery men stood with lanyard in hand at 
their canister, shotted guns beiny trained to sweep the gates. All 
being ready, the huge bolts were drawn and thv gates swung open 
on their massive iron hinges, and we marched into that hell on 
earth. We felt we were cut off from the world and completely at 
the mercy of our cruel keepers. 

The creek that runs through this pen was pointed out to us, and 
a rush was made for it, as we were nearly dead from thirst. The 
water soon became cloudy, and two comrades, to get the clean water, 
pushed above the dead line, and not knowing the danger, reached 
beyond it, and both dropped dead in the water, shot by the guards 
on the wall or stockade. We dared not move their bodies until 
ordered to do so by a rebel officer, who was some time in getting 
around. The water remaining red with our comrade's blood, stopped 
the drinking until their bodies were removed. We had not been in 
the stockade fifteen minutes until two of our number were ready for 
the dead pile we had seen outside the gates. The poor fellows, 

[29] 



however, missed the horrible torture which was planned for them and 
us, and which, if I knew I had to pass through again, I would cross 
the "dead line" and ask the guards to show me mercy by tearing 
my body with the ball and buckshot from their old musket. 

About twenty rods southwest from the southern gates, on high 
ground overlooking the prison, was a large log house wherein were 
quartered the rebel officers, The Confederate flag floated from a 
pole in front of the house. Near this pole were two cannons or 
signal guns, used to warn the whole rebel force in case the prisoners 
attempt to break out. 

At various places between the gate and this house, there were 
different instrumeuts of torture ; viz., stocks, thumb-screws, barbed 
iron collars, shackles, ball and chain, etc. There were three kinds 
of stocks — one in v/hich the prisoner stood on his tip-toes, his hands 
protruding over a piece of timber under which his head is crowded 
forward, another timber forcing the small of his back forward — in the 
second stocks, the prisoners sits on the ground with hands and feet 
elevated and fastened to a frame work in front of him, — in the third 
stocks there was a horizontal frame, the prisoner lying on his back 
with hands and feet fastened, the head being fixed in a standing head 
board, which moved outward until the body was in a painful tension. 
These instruments of torture were brought from where they had 
evidently been used to hold slaves in obedience. Our prison keepers 
seemed to handle them with familiarity. 

About a half a mile northwest from the pen is a large sandy 
field, where the dead are carted und packed in trenches without 
boxes, coffins or clothes, and but a scanty covering of earth. Time 
drags slowly by, and we feel utterly God-forsaken and beyond the 
limits of civilization, our praying bands petitioning the Almighty to 
soften the hearts of our cruel keepers. 

The confederate soldiers who did the fighting at the front seldom 
ever robbed their prisoners. My experience was that they were 

[30J 



well-meaning, humane and honorable, and would divide their drink 
and rations with their captives. They honestly believed they were 
fighting for their rights, and of them I have no word of complaint 
to offer. 

The rebel Quartermaster, with an eye to business, put up a 
shanty about the middle of the northern half of the prison, and 
appointed two of our "Jay Goulds" and put them in charge of it. 
He then supplied them on commission with meal, peas, salt, sweet 
potatoes, tobacco and any article which it was thought would draw 
hidden money from the '-'Yanks." We call this the sutler's shop. 
Its goods were sold at incredible prices — a teaspoanful of salt, 25 
cents ; a small biscuit, 50 cents ; turnips, 25 cents each ; sweet 
potatoes, 25 cents each ; and other things in proportion. The 
famished skeletons would stand around and look in on the good 
things, then consult their money, then their stomachs, and the 
money was turned over for the article. No one, except he was there 
in the prison can form anything liken a correct idea of our appear- 
ance about this time. We had been in prison nearly five months 
and our clothing was worn out. A number were entirely naked ; 
some would have a ragged shirt and no pants ; some had pants and 
no shirt: another would have shoes and a cap and nothing else. 
Their flesh was wasted away, leaving the chaffy, weather-beaten 
skin drawn tight over the bones, the hip bones and shoulders stand- 
ing out. Thfir faces and exposed parts of their bodies were covered 
with smoky black soot, from the dense smoke of pitch pine we had 
hovered over, and our long matted hair was stiff and black with the 
same substance, which water would have no effect on, and soap was 
not to be had. I would not attempt to describe the sick and dying, 
who could now be seen on every side. 

The prison lot contains about 30 acres, located on two hills 
with a swamp between and a small stream running through the 
swamp. In this swamp the men of both liill:. meet to draw water, 

[30 



wash, etc. We are served with raw rations consisting of corn meal 
and a small piece of bacon, so the men have to cook for themselves. 
A large number have nothing to cook in and bake little cakes on 
pieces of boards held before the fire. 

The prisoners are divided into detachments of two hundred and 
seventy men, each of these detachments being sub-divided into three 
companies of ninety, with a sergeant in charge of each ninety. He 
takes their names, company and regiment and also their occupation 
and descriptive list, and when and where captured. Roll is called 
every morning and each sergeant must account for his men. and if 
he fails to do so, his company is kept in line or ranks until the 
absentees are found. 

i6th. Rations to-day one pint of corn meal, about four ounces 
of bacon and a spoonful of salt ; cook it the best we can. 

17th. Yesterday a company of my detachment rode a Jew on a 
rail about the camp. He was absent from roll call and the company 
did not get their rations until two o'clock in the afternoon. Instead 
of nine in the morning. 

i8th. There were only five hundred prisoners here when we 
first came, but they are coming fast ; two trains a day for the last 
three days. There must be in the neighborhood of two thousand 
here now. 

19th, Raining hard this morning. We were told that this was 
at) elegant place for prisoners, a fine stream of water and comfort- 
able quarters, but we know better now. You would pity us to see 
from five to twenty around a small fire trying to make mush in a 
canteen and bake cakes on a board. 

20th. There are no buildings or tents of any kind, but lie out 
on the ground. Some of the fellows dig holes in the ground, and 
when it is cold or rainy they crawl in and are somewhat protected. 

[32J 



2ist. I only wish I had some of the good things received from 
home, but alas, that was all gone two weeks ago. There is a wooden 
fence or wall around this pen, fifteen feet high. It is made of 
strong logs put close together and sunk five feet in the ground. 
The guards walk on a platform, their heads and shoulders above the 
top of the fence. About five hundred more prisoners arrived to-day 
from our old quarters. Bell Isle ; they look as hard as ever. 

22d. Washington's Birthday ; thinking of friends at home, 

23d. Rations the same for the last four or five days. The 
rebels have a large pack of bloodhounds for the purpose of hunting 
up any of the prisoners who may happen to escape, but I cannot see 
how any one can get out of this pen, it is so strong and guards are 
stationed all around, every fifty yards in full view. They call out 
the number of their post. It is quite amusing to hear them yell ou* 
every once in a while such words as these : "The Yankees are safe 
and the North is trembling; make Georgia's soil rich with the black 
abolitionists ; bury them deep, let the crows have them ; free the 
nigger and enslave the whites ;" and all the slurs they can think of. 

24th. Rations one sanitary cupful of corn meal and about three 
ounces of half-rotten bacon. Each man got about two spoonfuls of 
soft soap, something we needed very badly. 1 have an idea that it 
would take about two pounds to take the black off some of us. 

25th. Five hundred prisoners to-day from Bell Isle ; prisoners 
getting sick fast ; four deaths yesterday ; a great many can hardly 
walk to the swamp. 

26th. Rations a great deal better ; over a cupful of meal and 
about a half a pound of corn beef. Men busy all day sitting in the 
sun and picking themselves. I believe there is scarcely a pair of 
shoes in the whole place, prisoners all in their bare feet. When it 
rains, a few of them who have old blankets tie two of them together 
and stretch it over a pole and keep part of the rain and the night 
dew off. Ten died yesterday and last night. What a sight ! We 
are pretty looking soldiers now. 

[33] 



27th. More prisoners to-day. The rebels say they are going 
to send every damned Yankee that is in the Confederacy here be- 
fore two months. Five more deaths yesterday and last night. 

"Ye sons of Columbia, give ear to my story ! 
Come hear what I say and your blood will run cold. 

'Tis of the poor prisoners confined down in Georgia, 
But what they have suffered can never be told. 

Deserted by friends and ill-treated by foeman ; 
Starvation and hunger from morning till night, 

And the hopes of our freedom can ne'er be awaking: 
Our visions of hope are almost out of sight. 

There is Lincoln and Seward, Gideon Wells and Old 
Butler, 
Who figure so high in this American war, 

They must be devoid of all humanity and pity, 
And resolved to leave us die where we are. 

In Richmond, in Danville, besides down in Georgia, 
Our bones they lie bleaching above the red sand ; 

Although for our friends we may weep broken hearted, 
We may never return to our own native land. 

When Lincoln came out with his great proclamation. 
Resolved, as he said, all the darkies to free. 

He did not consider the mistake he was making. 
Until it had spread o'er the land of the free. 

When Butler tried to exchange us poor prisoners, 
The negro rose up and stood in the way. 

And Lincoln declared if he did not get Pompey, 
The white and the black man together must stay. 

And now to our fate we have bowed in submission. 
Although hundreds and thousands are laid in the dust. 

Two thirds of our number, the whole world may wonder, 
Are laid neath the soil to moulder and rust. 

Although our kind friends at home are waiting, 
For those that may ne'er again answer the call, 

'Tis those fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers. 
All sigh that their friends in this manner must fall." 

[34J 



28th. Rations the same as yesterday, There is plenty of 
fire-wood here just now, but how long it will last is hard to tell, as 
new prisoners are coming in all the time. Five deaths last night. 
Raining hard this morning and cool, but not as cold as it was on the 
Island. Quite a number sick. 

29th, Rations a little better this morning — about half a pint 
of meal and half a pound of salt junk. We can live on that. The 
guards were re-inforced to-day, and they also brought four pieces of 
cannon here. They say they are going to make a slaughter-pen out 
of this place. A great number of the guards are boys and 
crippled old men. 

March i. 1864. Rations reduced to a half a pint of meal and 
four ounces of salt beef. We were also given a little soft soap. 
Four prisoners died last night. When a prisoner dies here, if his 
name can be ascertained it is written on a piece of paper and pinned 
on his breast, and then the body is hauled away in a wagon, one 
body thrown on top of the other, head to feet, in a previously dug 
ditch. These ditches are dug in rows about two hundred feet long 
and three feet deep, and about enough space between each row for 
a horse and wagon to drive. 

2d. No change in food to-day. Men busy over the fire making 
cakes, mush, coffee and a variety of things, all out of corn meal. 
We can beat the cooks at home. Our recipes are varied and numer- 
ous. 

3d. Four ounces of bacon to-day instead of beef. We prefer 
bacon for then we can get grease to fry our mush with. The blood- 
hounds make an awful noise when the keeper takes them out for 
practice, or drill as we call it. One of the prisoners smothered to 
death last night ; his hole in the ground which he used as a shelter 
caved in on him, 

[35] 



4th. Nothing but a quart of corn meal to-day. I don't believe 
I weigh one hundred pounds ; have been quite sick since yesterday 
and don't feel iike doing anything, but will try and keep up, for it 
will not do to let your courage run down in a place like this. 

5th. More prisoners arrived last night. They say Richmond 
is thinning out fast, but I can assure you Andersonville is full. Ten 
died yesterday. A great many have sore arms, that member drop- 
ping off completely, caused by the insertion of the poison in Richmond. 

9th. I have been quite sick for the last four days and have not 
been able to attend to my diary. Well, there was nothing to men- 
tion except that a large number died. 

loth. I am no better to-day and cannot do anything. Walter 
Webb gets my rations and makes a little coffee for me out of corn 
meal. 

13th. I am a little better to-day and took a walk to the swamp 
to wash, and feel a little refreshed. 

14th. About five hundred prisoners came in from Richmond 
last night. 

15th. I feel considerably better this morning, although my bones 
are all sore and am quite stiff. 

i6th. Rations — a sanitary cupful of corn meal and six ounces 
of beef, Eight or ten deaths yesterday and last night. Five hun- 
dred prisoners arrived from our old quarters at Richmond. 

19th. Nothing new last two or three days. Walter Webb, of 
my company, very sick to-day. Poor fellow, I must attend to him, 
as he did all he could for me when I was sick. We are going to take 
care of each other as long as we can. 

20th, No change in rations. Webb is no better to-day. More 
prisoners from Richmond just came in. It is cool here nights and 
morning but pleasant during the day. Webb, Culberson, Gallagher 
and I have two blankets which we make serve as a tent. 

[36] 



2ist. Some beans and a little soup added to the rations to-day. 
Webb is a little better, but Culberson is now sicU. 

30th. Nothing to say for several days, but I must do somethino. 
A large number of prisoners arrived from Danville prison, it is get- 
ting very much crowded here. 

April I, 1864. More prisoners from the neighborhood of Rich- 
mond, Va. Squads of four to six men are let outside of the gates 
each day to gather firewood for each ninety men. The poor fellows 
can't carry much but they are glad to get out and get some fresh air. 

2d. Rations, the usual quantity of corn meal and six or ei^ht 
ounces of rotten beef, but it must be v^aten. The filth and vermin 
in this place is horrible. Oh, humanity ! eh, Christianity ! where 
art thou } Not in the Southern Confederacy, that 1 can testify to. 
Some strangers, men and women, came in here the other da\ , and 
when they saw our condition, they turned up their noses and laughed. 

3d. They say that three or four of our men while out in the 
woods for firewood, over-powered the guard, took his musket from 
him, stripped him of his clothing, and then took him fifteen miles away 
and allowed him to go. 

4th. Rations, pig feed, (corn meal,) about three ounces of salt 
pork and half a pint of beans. Three men above-mentioned were 
pursued, over taken and brought back here to-day and ball and chain 
put on them. 

5th. Some more prisoners tried to get away last night. Capt. 
Wirz. the commander, is greatly excited ; he rode through the camp 
on his horse, and no prisoner dared speak to him. 

6th. Considerable fighting and stealing among the prisoners, 
It is not safe for one to have a dollar or a good overcoat, for you 
would be way-layed and killed, if necessary, to gain possession of 
the coveted articles. It is said there is a regular organized gang of 
thieves here. Deaths are on the increase all the time ; from twenty- 
five to forty dropping off a day. The sun is quite warm now. God 
help us, if they keep us in this filth during the hot weather. 

[37J 



The dead-line is claiming its victims and the stocks and various 
instruments of torture are being patronized. The deep-toned baying 
of the bloodhounds breaks the morning stillness of the forest and 
swamps ; some poor fellow has got beyond the guards and is being 
chased down. The sound of the hounds dies away and instead we 
hear the far-away tooting of a horn and the rebel cheer — the run- 
away is caught. In time they appear with him ; he is led bleeding and 
torn to the stocUs and fastened in the infernal machine. The maggot 
flies deposit their eggs in his wounds and he is putushed for ten or 
twelve hours and then turned into the prison with wounds uncared 
for ; a few days later we see him a working mass of maggots. The 
raiders, or prison thieves are getting bold. They are Icnown as the 
"Collins Raiders,'' and are growing fat from their pluiuier while many 
in the pen are starving to death. The prison is crowded to its very 
edge and it is impossible to keep from getting near the dead line. 
There are hundreds of crazy men in the pen who. in spite of our 
watching, would get to the dead-line ; and many sane men would 
calmly fold their arms and step across it to end their misery. The 
guards in shooting the men nearly always wound or kill one who was 
not near the line ; the bullet would pass through the body of the man 
it was intended for. and glancing on through the pen, would find a 
lodging place in some innocent man's body. The number shotin this 
way could be counted by the scores. We were constantly in as 
much danger of being shot here as at the battle front, 

8th. Great m.my of the prisoners sick with rheumatism, diar- 
rhoea, scurvy and dropsy, and a great many are carried off. The 
hospital was removed outside of the stockade to-day to make room 
for more prisoners. The stream of water that passes through here 
runs from west to east, dividing the camp into two equal parts. The 
rebel camps are north and south of this stream, with breastworks and 
battery of artillery on each corner, south and east are the cook 
houses and west of all is the railroad depot, about three-fourths of a 

[38J 



mile away. The rebels wash their clothing and themselves in this 
stream, horses and mules are driven into it to drink, buckets, tubs 
and kettles belonging to the rebel camp and cook houses are washed 
here, and all the filth of the camps thrown into it ; and then 
it runs through to us. We have to use it, alttiough it is literally 
alive with vermin and filth of all kinds. If our friends could see us ! 
1 know it would make many weep to see the thousands of their 
fellows who only a shnrt time ago held their heads high in honor and 
pride, keeping step to the soul-stirring martial music, now rotting in 
filth and apparently forgotten by their government. Just think of it ! 
seventy-five deaths have occurred in the last 24 hours. At that rate 
it will not be long until we are all gone. There are about eighteen 
thousand prisoners here now and more coming in all the time ; one 
shot by the guard to-day. 

12th. Have not written in my diary the last three days. 
During that time three hundred prisoners died. Rations for the last 
week very fair — corn cob meal and a little over a half-pound of beef. 

13th. Getting quite warm, which occasions a great many deaths. 

i4tb. More prisoners made their escape last night. It is said 
they dug a hole under the stockade and got out that way. Captain 
Wirz is wild ; says his hounds will make short work of them. 

15th. Some more prisoners came in to-day. 1 did not learn 
where they are from, but, judging from their appearance, they have 
been captured recently. They have overcoats and blankets. 

i6th. Wirz gave orders to the guards that if any prisoner 
approaches the dead-line, shoot him on the spot, and if a crowd 
congregates near the entrance, for the artillery to open fire on them. 

17th. Learned to-day that Sergeant Hope of Co. C, 13th, my 
regiment, died in Richmond. A number of boxes came to-day. Some 
of the prisoners are dissatisfied with their friends at home for their 
seeming forgetfulness. 

[39] 



i8th. About five hundred more prisoners came in to-day from 
Cahaba, Alabama. Bernard Tolen, Co. D, died to-day. 

19th Over a hundred deaths the last two days. Corn meal 
and bacon---a good change. 

2ist. Nothing to write yesterday. More boxes for prisoners 
to-day, Some of the boys are getting the boxes which were sent to 
their comrades who are now dead. Rebels report through camp that 
United States transports are at Savannah to take away three thousand 
prisoners, but we have been fooled too often to credit the report. 

22d. Five hundred more prisoners came in this morning, being 
a part of those captured at Plymouth, N. C. 

28th. Nothing to write lately. One thousand more prisoners 
have arrived from Plymouth the last day or two. We are getting 
very much crowded. A prisoner shot this morning for crossing the 
dead-line to get a piece of bread. There is a little railing around the 
stockade and about fifteen feet from it, and the prisoners are for- 
bidden going inside this space, to prevent any meddling with the 
stockade, guards being posted on top. 

29th. About a thousand new prisoners came in to-day. They 
were horrified to see the condition of things. I got a bag from one 
of the guards to-day while out after wood. I gave him a Testament 
which one of the new prisoners had given me, for it. I am going to 
make a shirt of it. Some of the prisoners made their escape last 
night through a small tunnel under the stockade. 

30th. They say we are going to get cooked rations soon. I 
hope we do, as wood and cooking utensils are scarce. We cook cakes 
on boards and then lay them in the sun until the water dries out of 
them. 

May ist. Sunday rations — corn meal, rice and molasses. 
Fights all the time, day and night. 

[40J 



2d. Pint of cooked rice and a gill of molas.ses for the next 
twenty-four hours. Will have my shirt finished to-day. 

4th. Six men shot within the last week. A Yankee made be- 
lieve he was dead last night, and allowed himself to be carried out 
to the dead-house on a stretcher, and was laid alongside the dead. 
I hope the fellow will get inside our lines, but very few escape the 
bloodhounds. 

7th. Rained hard last night and is still raining. Our drinking 
water is thick with mud and filth. 1 sometimes think everything is 
coming on us to hurry us off, Well, probably the sooner out of 
such misery the better, but I will keep up as long as there is a spark 
of life left in me. A great many get discouraged and die when they 
could prolong their lives with a little courage. But it is only a matter 
of time, as six months is considered a prisoner's life in a Confederate 
prison, although it has been eight months since I was captured. 1 
am a mere skeleton. 

8th. Received a pound of bread to-day, the first we have had 
since we came here, three ounces of beef, and a bucketful of rice to 
be divided among ninety men. How we wretches enjoyed it ! The 
bread was made of yellow meal and somewhat resembled fruit cake — 
the flies taking the place of the raisins. Nearly all the old prisoners 
now have scurvy, the gums turning black and swelling bevond the 
teeth, and pouching out the cheek ; the teeth become loose and drop 
out. The mouth becomes cancerous and the patient lingers and 
dies. In others the limhs turn black and swell to the greatest 
capacity of the skin, black watery sores open, gangrene sets in, 
and death shortly follows. The whole prison was a hell of torture 
and insanity. You could hear praying and groaning mingled with 
the laugh of the lunatic and cursing. The sun is growing hotter 
and the raiders bolder. The guards are more numerous, the stocks 
more terrible and the chain-gangs are full of victims. The ground 

[41] 



swarms with all kinds of vermin, and millions upon millions of mos- 
quitoes come from the surrounding swamps to feast on our emaciated 
bodies ; their buzzing hum adds to the bedlam of the prison, and with 
the hooting of the owls and the mournful notes of the whip-poor-wills, 
howled a requiem, broken only by the crack of the muskets of the 
murderous guards, or the sounds of their voices as they cry out the 
hour of the night from their perches on the stockade. 1 have lain on 
the battle-field in the solemn hours of the night, surrounded with 
dead and dying and listening to the piteous, agonizing cries of the 
wounded, but it is nothing compared to this den of misery and woe, 
the memory of which will be ever present to those who experienced it. 

Nearly one-half of the old prisoners are dead and nearly all of 
those living are prostrated with scurvy and gangrene. There is a 
place outside the stockade where ;some of the sick are taken, but 
they are so poisoned by the stench of the prison, that nearly all die. 
Unless one was there, it is hard for the mind to grasp the magnitude 
of this hell on earth. There are nearly 30,000 young men who had 
been pronounced sound and healthy and the best material in the 
land, condemned to this hell of torture and misery. There seems to 
be no relief; we must rot in this living grave. 

The raiders are having everything their own way ; it is a common 
thing to find dead men in the morning with throats cut or heads 
crushed in. The raiders got so bold that gangs of them go about 
in daylight and rob by the wholesale; great talk of organizing the 
prisoners into regulars or prison police 

9th. Eighteen prisoners broutiht in to-day from Sherman's 
army. They bring good news as to the movement of our troops. 
They say our forces captured four thousand rebels the day they were 
captured. 

12th. About two hundred more prisoners the last day or two. 
Rebels greatly excited about something. A cripple was shot for go- 
ing inside the dead-line. Taylor, of Co. D, died to-day. Rations 
same with the exception of a pint of vinegar for each ten men. 

[42J 



I3th. John Moore, of my company, died to-day. About fifty 
prisoners to-day from Dalton. They say Dalton is in the hands of 
our army, and that Sherman is marching on Atlanta. The average 
deaths for the last week has been about sixty per day. 

14th. About a hundred and thirty prisoners came in to-day — 
captured at Dalton. They bring good news concerning the move- 
ment of our troops. 

15th. We can see wagons haulaway the bodies from the dead- 
house, like so much dirt ; as many as twenty bodies piled on one 
wagon. Upwards of fifteen hundred men have died since we came 
here. 

i6th. One thousand old prisoners from Danville, Va,, just 
arrived. 

17th. About seven hundred and fifty more prisoners, mostly 
from the army of the Potomac. They were greatly surprised to see 
so many prisoners here. Raining hard. There are millions and 
millions of all kinds of vermin here, flies, bugs, maggots and lice, 
some of them as large as spiders. If they once get the best of you, 
you are a goner. A great many of the prisoners are hopelessly 
crazy, starvation, disease and vermin being the cause. 

i8th. Rations for the last week have not taken any change. 
Weather getting warm. Thousands coming in all the time; more 
guards placed on duty. 

19th. Corn bread and about three ounces of bacon for to-day. 
Some fifteen hundred prisoners came in last night and this morning — 
mostly from the Army of the Potomac. Great many prisoners suffer- 
ing from scurvy ; some of them are all doubled up and cannot stretch 
either limb ; some have their gums rot and teeth drop out. 

20th. What a sad looking place this is this morning ; a heavy 
rain and thunder storm last night and we were almost drowned. No 
tents or shelter of any kind, and the rain poured down in unceasing 
torrents. Some of the new prisoners who made tents of their 

[43] 



blankets found them of little use. Culberson, Webb, Gallagher 
and myself compose the party of my company who have held together 
so long. Culberson's days, poor fellow, are numbered ; he was 
taken outside to the hospital this morning. A few months ago he was 
a large, hearty, fine-looking fellow, but now — a total wreck. It is 
not always the largest and the strongest that can stand it the long- 
est. 1 am weary and sick ; sick in body and mind, and don't care 
whether 1 write any more or not. 

2ist, Fifty prisoners arrived yesterday, captured in Florida. 
Raining hard to-day. The raiders killed a man last night. Prisoners 
dying of dropsy ; when they are dead, their bodies swell up as 
large as barrels. There is quite a fight over a dead man's pants ; 
when a prisoner dies, his shoes, stockings, shirt, pants and cap are 
stripped from him. One prisoner will almost kill another to gain 
possession of them. 

24th. Quite a number of visitors here to-day to see a real live 
Yankee ; he is quite a curiosity, especially in this predicament. 

25th. Five hundred more prisoners to-day from Gen. Sickel's 
command. Getting very warm and vermin multiplying; our water 
is full of maggots and filth. 

26th. Raining hard again to-day. Mud and filth are our bed- 
fellows. Six hundred more prisoners this afternoon. I am somewhat 
crippled, myself, but manage to try and wash and keep clean , that 
is the principal thing. One hundred have died within the last 24 
hours. 

27th. Rations, half a loaf of corn bread and two ounces of 
bacon. Prisoners complaining of our government allowing its soldiers 
to remain so long in misery and suffering. 

28th* Eleven hundred prisoners arrived last night, chiefly from 
the army before Richmond. A great many deaths yesterday but 
could not learn the number. The rebels are now trying to conceal 
the number of deaths, but before they were glad enough to tell us 
how many died. Evidently they are getting alarmed. 

[44J 



29th, Bread to-dav. They say they must ^ivc- meal to one 
half and bread to the other half on alternate da\s. Raiders are 
getting worse every day. Some prisoners escaped from the guards 
yesterday while out after fire-wood ; Captain W irz started the blood- 
hounds after them. 

30th. An order from Capt. Wirz has been read, that each 
Sergeant who passes men outside the gate must sign a paper for the 
safe return of the men thus detached, and any violatiDii of that order 
on the part of the squad will he punished by stopping their rations 
until the escaped have been brought back. 

31st. Some of the prisoners while out after wood trade with 
the guards for onions, potatoes, beans, etc., and bring them in here 
and sell them for exorbitant prices — one dollar for an onion and the 
same for a pint of black beans. 

June ist. Rations very small. Five hundred prisoners came 
in this morning. One man was badly beaten by the raiders last 
night ; he said they took a v/atch away from him that his mother had 
given him as a birthday present when he was twenty-one, and he 
would almost as leave lose his life. 

2d. Eggs are selling at fifty cents a piece ; a solid inch of soap, 
fifty cents ; one head of cabbage, one dollar ; a shaving and hair 
cutting saloon has been opened in the swamp 

3d. Those stores are doing quite a business, especially among 
the new arrivals, who have plenty of money ; it requires a large 
amount. Weather is getting warm and what a terrible smell there is. 

4th. Deaths increasing every day — almost as fast as they are 
coming in. God help us ! no tongue or pen can describe, or imagina- 
tion portray, how horrible is this hell on earth. 

5th. Raining hard all day ; some cases of small-pox here. 
There will be no help for us if that disease once gets started. It made 
me sick when I heard that news, but I will trust in God for He has 
protected me through twenty fights and skirmishes and through all 

[45] 



the hardships and sufferings of prison life for eight months, when 
many of my comrades who were captured with me are gone. I be- 
lieve half of the 127 of my company who were captured with me are 
dead. 

6th. Three hundred more prisoners came in this morning from 
Sherman's army. They are of the opinion that Atlanta will soon be 
in the possession of our troops. Raining to-day ; the two men who 
escaped the other day were brought in and put in irons ; one of them 
had the flesh torn from his legs. 

yth. Raining again to-day ; men lying out in the rain and mud, 
sick and suffering ; thirty deaths reported from small-pox within the 
last week, 

8th. Got a diary from one of the new prisoners ; glad of it, for 
mine was almost full. He said 1 was doing something he could not 
do. Well, 1 commenced it and it comes natural to me now, besides, 
it occupies my mind and gives me some exercise twice a day going 
from one end of the prison to the other hunting up news. 1 will 
soon have to lookout for a new pencil. This is the fourth piece and 
it is very short. 1 could not find my cap this morning, but watched 
my chance among the dead and got another. It is about four sizes 
too large for me, but as I will not go to see my sweet-hearl for some 
time, it will have to do. 

9th. Raining to-day ; it has rained every day this month, ad- 
ding much to the suffering of us poor creatures. Several detach- 
ments got no bread for two days ; they don't know the reason, but 
I suppose they have the shorts as usual. One man was drowned in 
the swamp this afternoon. New potatoes sell at one dollar per dozen. 
1 couldn't buy any even if they were a cent a bushel. 

loth. Raining as usual. Eleven hundred and forty prisoners 
came in this morning from the Army of the Potomac ; they bring 
no news of any kind. 

12th. Raining all day yesterday and last night. One hundred 
and nine have died in the last twenty-four hours. 

[46J 



i3th. Raining all the time ; men dying constantly from the 
effects of the rain and exposure, having no shelter of any kind. 

14th. About a thousand prisoners came in to-day from the 
Mississippi, stripped of blankets, coats, shoes, money, watches, 
rings, and in fact, everything was taken from them ; they said after 
their capture they were treated in a most barbarous manner. 

But evil for good they returned, 

Insulted and abused us ; 
Our prayers, our tears, they mocked and spurned, 
And worse than brutes they used us. 

It was reported that General Sherman sent a large force of 
cavalry to release us. When Wirz heard of them coming, he issued 
an order to the commander of the artillery to be ready, and when 
the Yankee cavalry got within seven miles of the pen, to open fire 
on the prisoners wiih grape and canister and to continue firing as 
long as a prisoner lived : but our cavilry was defeated and a part of 
them captured and tuintrd into the pen with us. 

15th. Raining again this morning, but the sky promises a fine 
afternoon. It is not worth while to state the kind and quantity of 
rations we have been getting, as there has been no change. 

i6th. A fine morning, but everything is wet and mouldy in 
consequence of so much rain, it having rained every day this month. 
The raiders attacked a new prisoner this morning and beat him un- 
mercifully. They are a hard looking set of cusses ; they have a 
leader named Collins, and are called "Mosby and his gang," after 
the notorious Mosby. A great deal of trading going on— the peddlers 
becoming a great nuisance ; wood is in great demand, a handful is 
worth fifty cents. Hardly anything can be obtained for less than 
half a dollar. 

17th. A great many deaths in camp daily. It is clear and 
warm this morning, and I think I will take a stroll through camp this 
afternoon, as I have not been around much lately, it having been 
so wet. 

[47] 



i8th. Some of the raiders at work again last night. The 
prisoners are talking of organizing a police force for protection. 
Three hundred and ninety more prisoners arrived this morning, hav- 
ing been captured in front of Richmond. Among them were D. A. 
Callahan, Sergeant Major of my regiment; he did not know me, I 
had changed so. I don't wonder, as my weight has dropped from 150 
to about 100 pounds. 

19th. One of the raiders arrested by the police this morning 
for stealing from one of the prisoners. He was sent out to the rebel 
guardhouse, as Wirz had given the police authority to send them 
there. I hope this will lessen the crimes committed here. 

Since Satin loves the wicked race, 
To him we'll quickly send them ; 

In hell they'll rue the want of grace. 
Then may the devil mend them. 

It is reported that the body of a man was found buried under a 
tent occupied by the raiders. Several fights between the regulars 
and the raiders ; dug-outs and huts were torn down, sticks and poles 
being used by both as weapons; the "Regulars" were strong in 
numbers, while the "Raiders" were strong in flesh. The battle 
lasted all day, the raiders were overpowered and over one hundred 
of them were arrested and taken outsike the stockade and put in the 
rebel guard-house for safe-keeping. 

20th. A great many sick taken out to the hospital every day. 

2ist. Man was shot at the dead-line last night by one of the 
guards. Some of the detachments have not had any fire-wood for 
several days, and cannot cook their raw rations. Another raider 
arrested to-day and sent to the guard-house. Report says that all 
the leaders are going to be arrested and tried for murder ; there is 
evidence against them that they have killed several of their fellow- 
prisoners. 

[48] 



22d. The rice we receive is hardly fit to eat, because of so 
much handling and measuring. I think we mal<e a piteous spectacle 
standing in squads of thirty around a half bucketful of rice, in the 
midst of a drenching storm, thunder rolling over our heads, waiting 
for our rations of rice, which resembles slop. The men that have 
old tin cups are considered lucky, while others receive theirs on pieces 
of boards, and in bags made out of pants legs, and caps. Now 
imagine, if you can. the men eating that rice with a relish with their 
dirty black fingers. So much for starvation in the "Sunny South." 

23d. The new addition to the stockade will be finished in a few 
days and that will give us more room. Number of deaths increasing 
in an alarming manner ; some fall dead while walking, 

24th. Four more of the raiders arrested yesterday and sent to 
to the guard-house, where they put a ball and chain on them. 

25th. Four more of the raiders arrested this morning, including 
CQllins. the leader of the gang. It is reported they are going to be 
tried, and if found guilty, to be hanged. 

26th. Capt. Wirz came into camp yesterday and ordered the 
chief of police to have all the leaders of the raiders arrested and sent 
to the guard house. 

27th. Don't feel very well to-day ; I am all broken up with 
rheumatism, caused by rain and exposure, having only one old torn 
blanket for the four of us. 

28th. The camp to-day presented one of the wildest scenes I 
have ever witnessed. The balance of the prison thieves were ar- 
rested, but not until after a general fight had taken place, in which 
clubs and knives had been freely used ; four or five men were killed, 
but the raiders were overpowered and taken to the guard-house. 

29th. The new addition to the stockade was opened to the 
prisoners this morning. They were scarcely in and the guards taken 
off. when the prisoners commenced tearing down the logs for fire- 
wood ; 1 never saw such a scramble. 

[49J 



30th. No rations to-day ; the rebels say it is to punish us for 
destroying the stockade. 

July r, 1864. The prison Sergeants were ordered to write out 
new company rolls this morning, there being so many deaths and sick 
m the hospital, that there are very few of the old prisoners left ; this 
is regarded as a good sign for parole or exchange. The weather is 
very hot; several shots fired at the prisoners last night; one man 
shot in the knee ; over a hundred deaths reported yesterday. I am 
almost crippled with rheumatism ; there are many cases of insanity, 
the poor fellows not knowing what they do, wander inside the dead 
line and are shot. 

2d. The raiders were tried and convicted yesterday ; the six 
leaders were found guilty of murder in the first degree by the jury 
and sentenced to be hanged. 

3d. We cannot live long en the quantity of rations we have 
been getting. Thinking of our friends at home who are preparing 
to celebrate the Nation's birthday of freedom to-morrow ; they do 
not imagine the condition of us poor sufferers in this accursed place. 

4th. No rations of any kind to-day ; this is the way the rebels 
intends us to celebrate the Fourth. A thousand deaths would be 
preferable to this intense suffering ; I have been in twenty engage- 
ments and skirmishes, and would rather be in twice as many again 
than endure the tortures of this hell. 

5th. Captain Wirz sent for all the sergeants of squads and told 
them he was imformed of an organization in camp numbering six 
thousand men who were resolved in breaking out of prison, and cap- 
ture the guards, muskets and artillery ; he admonished us to beware, 
for he was well prepared, night or day, and would not be caught 
sleeping ; he read an order to us received from Richmond, instructing 
him to open fire when any demonstration was made; he said he 
would do so with grape and canister, and would not stop while a man 

[50J 



was left kicking, inside or out. He has two white fl^gs up, one on 
each hill inside of the stockade; warning us not to congregate in 
crowds outside of those flags or he will open fire on us. 

6th. Rations, one pint of meal and two or three spoonfuls of 
beans and two ounces of bacon; prisoners almost crazy with 
hunger ; there is a gang of men in here this morning selecting a place 
to build'a scaffold upon which to hang the six raiders ; I think they 
are only doing this to frighten the balance of them. 

7th. It is reported this morning that one hundred and twenty- 
five have died in the last 24 houis ; it is comparatively quiet here 
now since the raiders have be.n arrested ; and we have a good 
strong police force of about four hundred men, who are divided into 
squads with a captain in command of each ; two-thirds of the prison- 
ers cannot stand or walk, but lie around in all positions. 

Qth. Men came in to put up the scaffold to-day, and to their 
great astonishment there was no lumber ; the prisoners carried it off 
during the night for fire-wood and this morning not a stick could be 
seen ; when the news reached Capt. Wirz he was as mad as a 
horne't and drove all through the camp with twenty of his guards, 
but could not find any of the lumber ; he went out cursing the thiev- 
ing Yankees ; he carried four revolvers. 

,0th, One hundred and fifty-two prisoners have died within the 
last 24 houis ; they say almost as many die in the hospital as here. 
It is said the raiders will be hanged to-morrow, and that is the chief 
topic of conversation. It is awful hot here now; the sun almost 

melts us. 

I ith. About twenty men came in this morning to put up the 
scaffold ; rations served at nine this morning ; the rebels say the 
raiders are to be executed this afternoon, as soon as the scaffold is 

finished. 

It had become known about that we were going to hang some of 
our own men. When the appointed time arrived, a large crowd of 

[5«] 



citizens — men, women and children, gathered on the high ground be- 
tween the principal forts and the prison to witness the hanging. 
Capt.iiii Wirz was alarmed and excited, fearing we had some Yankee 
trick on hand to get up a commotion and all break out and capture 
the place. He had the whole rebel force under arms and the cannon 
of all the forts loaded with grape and canister and trained on the 
prison. 

Everything was ready to fire at the signal. But this act cre- 
ated an exciting scene, which Captain Wirz thought was the expected 
break. He ran to the signal battery yelling "Fire! fire! — shoot! 
shoot !" The Captain of the battery being a man of cool judgement, 
did not obey Wirz. The citizens and guards who were in the way 
of the cannon stampeded into a regular panic, injuring many of the 
citizens. Had the Captain of the battery obeyed Wirz, there would 
be 24 cannon loaded with grape and canister opened upon that human 
mass in the prison. The 35,000 lives in the prison hung on the 
firing-cord of that signal gun. 

LATER, — 5. GO P. M. The six raiders were hanged this after- 
noon ; it was an awful sight ; the judge, jury, etc., were all prison- 
ers, no rebels participating at all. At about half-past four, Captain 
Wirz rode into camp at the head of the guards who had the condemned 
men in charge to the scaffold, and delivered the sentenced men to 
our police, who stood around with clubs. One of the condemned 
men escaped through the crowd to the swamp but was soon brought 
back. 

He knows that he has gong astray. 

And sees the danger of his way. 
And to the right would turn again. 

If a pardon he could gain. 
Not for the crime he would repent. 

But much he fears the punishment 
The spoils he got among the throng, 

He had hoped would serve him long. 

[52J 



The six men were hanged together ; after hanging about twenty 
minutes, they were taken down and carried out to the dead-house, 
I was one of the six who carried Mosby, the leader, out, and was 
glad to breathe fresh air for a few minutes. 

July 12, 1864. All the talk in camp is about the hanging of 
the raiders. The scaffold upon which they were hanged was all 
carried away in an hour by the boys ; I have a piece of it which I 
want to lake home if 1 ever get out alive. The raiders were buried 
this morning ; the number of deaths in camp reached its highest 
mark yesterday, one hundred and eighty-five having died. 1 don't 
wonder, as everything is composed of dirt and filth ; the stench 
from the swamp is sickening and the water full of maggots and all 
kinds of vermin, which we must use or die of thirst ; there is a spring 
inside the dead-line, but cannot get to it without running the risk of 
being shot. 

13th. We are suffering very much from heat, as we have no 
shelter of any kind to protect us from the scorching sun ; we are 
almost all barefooted and hatless. Have not heard how many died 
yesterday, but think from the heat there must have been a great 
many ; the wagons have been busy all day hauling away the dead ; 
they use a regular hay wagon, and when thev throw in one body 
upon the rest, you can see it shake the whole load. Oh! what a 
horrible sight ! 

14th. One of the guards shot at a man this morning but missed 
him and struck a prisoner who was sitting smoking his pipe, hitting 
him in the upper part of the jaw, passing out at the opposite side, 
cutting his tongue in two. Ten detachments get one load of wood 
per day for twenty-five hundred men. Oh ! only God in heaven 
known how we are treated. 

We suffer much, we suffer long, 

Beneath their vile oppression. 
Nor could they say we did them wrong, 

Theirs was the first aggression. 

[53] 



15th. Rations, one pint of corn meal and about twenty beans 
and three or four ouBces of bacon, all raw and no way to cook them. 

j6th. The rebels are engaged in throwing up breastworks and 
making rifle pits all around the stockade ; we can see them at work. 
liiey are evidently afraid of Sherman's raid or Kilpatrick ; they 
would as soon see the devil as the latter general. Deaths average 
about one hundred and twenty per day, and the rebels say it will 
take us all away in August, as that is the hottest month in the year 
in Georgia. 

17th. It it tt-rribly hot here. Another prisoner was shot by 
the guards this morning ; he was taken sick while near the dead-line 
and was vomiting, and had hold of the railing to support himself 
when the guard, who was only twenty feet from him, shot him, the 
ball passing clear through his breast ; he belonged to a New York 
regiment. They say when a guard shoots a prisoner he gets thirty 
days furlough. I guess that accounts for the shooting of so many 
prisoners. 

We are truly in a wretched condition, and the gigantic, the 
proud, the boasted republic of the world, America is allowing its 
citizens, its soldiers, its volunteers to remain here to starve, to rot, 
and to die. 

i8th. Captain Wirz drove through the prison to-day ; the men 
hooted at him, but he paid no attention to them. 

19th. Upwards of seven thousand prisoners have died in the 
stockade since I came here, not including the number who have died 
in the hospital. 

20th. One hundred and thirty prisoners died yesterday ; it is 
so hot we are almost roasted. There were 127 of my regiment cap- 
tured the day I was, and of that number eighty-one have since died, 
and the rest are more dead than alive ; exposure and long confine- 
ment is doing its work among us. 

[54J 



2ist. The rebels have erected large forts and breastworks 
around the camp, to keep us from making a break to get out. There 
are thirty-seven thousand men crowded into a space of tfiirty-six 
acres. 

There are in this place active young and middle aged men from lov- 
ing northern homes, clinging to the last spark of life, wallowingin their 
own filth, many of them reduced to idiocy and some cannot speak, 
the ground under them giving off the most suffocating stench to 
mingle with that of bodies deca\ ing in the hot sun. Sometimes we 
would go and carry them water, of which they would drink, but the 
stench would drive us away before we could serve all. They would 
stretch out their wasted hands and implore us by word and signs to 
give them water, but the glassy stare of their eyes telling us they 
would soen be out of misery, we leave them to die ; we have all the 
sick comrades we can care for and we must not neglect them for 
those we cannot save with the means at hand. 

The churches of all denominations except one solitary Catholic 
Priest, Father Hamilton, ignore us as completely as they would 
dumb beasts. Father Hamilton was the only religious minister that 
I ever knew to come into this place, and I certainly believe be is 
a true Christian. He would minister the Catholic and Protestants 
alike. Some of the rebel doctors were kind-hearted and shed tears 
over our distress, but they were powerless to give relief under the 
Management of "Jeff" Davis and his assistants. Winder and Wirz. 
This starving strain on the weakened constitutions of the prisoners 
carried them off by the hundreds day after day. Wirz was a low, ill- 
born wretch of the most brutal type. He seemed to delight in, and 
took pride in showing the guards how he could knock down and kick 
the poor helpless imbecile prisoners, who were so idiotic that they 
could not understand him, and would stand and stare vacantly at him 
when he spoke to them. He practiced the most brutal and barbarous 
cruelties on this class of helpless prisoners. A large number of 

[55] 



those who had been in prison over a year were now insane. They 
seemed to lose all power of speech and memory ; they could not tell 
their own names, and did not know whether they had been in prison 
one day or one year. If spoken to, their only answer would be a 
far-away look, as if they were trying to recall something beyond the 
reach of their memory. They wondered aimlessly about and kept 
their comrades constantly watching to keep them from the dead-line. 
Many were murdered at the dead-line. The gangrene is terrible; 
prisoners are rotting and falling to pieces from its effect. God save 
us poor fellows ! 

22d. Nothing of any importance to state to-day ; it is com- 
paratively quiet since the raiders were hanged and the police were 
organized. Jeremiah O. Mahany, of my company, is Chief of Police. 
A great many men get sun struck, and men who lie out in the sun 
sick are tortured to death by flies and vermin. 

23d. Excitement in camp over the rumor of an exchange of 
prisoners ; 1 will not believe it until I am inside our lines — we have 
been fooled so often. 

24th. There are about two thousand sick in the hospital, just 
outside the stockade ; five or six legs and arms are amputated every 
day, which gives the physicians great practice. 

25th. No change in our bill of fare. 

August 2. 1864. Have been sick nearly a week ; am totally used 
up with rheumatism, but feel a little better this morning. Nine men 
went to our lines to-day with a proposal to our government for the 
exchange of prisoners ; if the exchange does not soon take place, 
there will be none left to tell the tale of the suffering and horrible 
treatment in the slaughter pen at Andersonville. One of the guards 
was accidently shot outside the gate this afternoon and killed. 

3d. I am better to-day but it makes me tired and stiff to walk 
much. About one hundred and fifty have died in the last twenty- 
four hours ; I forgot to mention that Culberson of my company died 

[56] 



in the hospital ; I did not learn when the poor fellow died ; that 
leaves only Webb, Gallagher and nnyself out of my company who 
are alive. 

4th. Great excitement here this morning owing to some of the 
prisoners tunneling out under the stockade last night ; it appears 
they had been working at it for over two weeks. Wirz came in and 
examined the tunnel this morning; he said the bloodhounds would 
soon catch them. 

5th. Wirz came in this morning with twenty guards; he said 
he heard there were two or three more tunnels ; but after a diligent 
search he could not find any signs of them ; The Yankees will fool 
him again, as he passed over two that 1 know of. 

6th. It is terribly hot ; Wirz was in again this morning with 
his bodyguard ; he is afraid to come in alone, as there are many who 
will kill him upon the first opportunity. 

The stern arm of vengt'ance against them we'll raise, 
And around them the flames of our bitterness blaze. 

For we swore they should pay for the deeds they have 
done ; 
And we ne'er will relent — not a tyrant we'll spare, 

But hang them on gibbets to rot in the air, 
Till those that survive them confess that they feel, 

That our army's resistless, and our hearts are of steel. 

1 learned this morning that one of my regiment got away with 
those who tunneled out. 1 witnessed an amputation this afternoon ; 
a prisoner got a sore on his foot and it was decided to amputate it. 
He did not want to go to the hospital as his brother is here to take 
care of him, and that accounts for the amputation being performed 
in the stockade. 

We point with pride to the thousands of graves and say, these 
comrades chose the most cruel death rather than dishonor their 
country in any way by assisting the enemy to destroy it by taking 
the oath of allegiance, which they often tried to induce us to do. 

[57J 



Under the most trying circumstances, naked and starving, and raked 
with pain and disease, with certain torture and death staring us in 
the face, did we refuse to oft-repeated offers of relief by enlisting 
in the Rebel Army or working in their shops. Those young men gave 
up all their bright hopes and prospects of loving homes and pursuits 
of happiness and submitted to cruel torture and death, believing that 
their sacrifices and deeds of heroism would ever be kept fresh in the 
memory of those who would enjoy the freedom for which this price 
was paid. There are many ungrateful people who would, no doubt, 
repress the recital of these comrades sufferings, claiming it would 
only breed sectional hatred, and that these stories are written and 
told in a spirit of animosity. To this I will say, 1 know that the 
truths written and told of these prison hells are very unwelcome to 
this class of people ; but remember, we do not hold the masses of 
the people or the soldiers of the South responsible for the cruel 
murder of our fellow-prisoners. For these misguided people we hold 
the greatest respect, except foi those who admire and applaud those 
bad bold men who wantonly and premeditately did murder their 
helpless captives. Again we are told that Jefferson Davis and his 
officers did not have the provisions to feed their captives. This ex- 
cuse was removed by our government offering to furnish food, 
clothing and medicines, which was refused. We know that they 
had no excuse for denying us pure air, water, room and means of 
shelter. We begged and pleaded with tears in our eyes that we be 
permitted to save our lives by ditching and draining the swamps in 
our prison pen and getting the material from the adjoining pine forest 
to shelter us from sun and rain. 

To those that say Jefferson Davis and his cabinet did not mur- 
der their captives, we ask them to discard all testimony of Union 
soldiers and take the evidence of Southern people and the Confeder- 
ate records. Examine the report of the Confederate surgeons ap- 
pointed to inspect the prisons, and you will see where they hastened 

[58J 



back to Davis and reported to him the destruction of life there ; see 
where they recommended the removal of the inhuman keepers and 
the appointment of humane keepers in their stead. You will see that 
Davis did nothing of the kind, hut he did promote John H. Winder 
to the command of all the prisoners in the South, with full power to 
torture and murder as he pleased ; and when you have examined all 
this calmly, if you have one spark of humanity in you, you will 
never express your admiration for that perjured murderer and his 
traitorous advisers. All this does not effect us ; we have seen noth- 
ing but misery for over a year and a half. 1 do not believe that ten 
out of every hundred will ever reach the friendly shelter of the 
Stars and Stripes. 

Col. C. T. Chandler of the Confederate army was sent by Jef- 
ferson Davis to inspect Andersonville prison. He performed his 
duties carefully, and in his report to Davis, he said : "I called the 
attention of Captain Wirz and General Winder to the frightful mor- 
tality that must certainly follow the crowded and filthy condition of 
the prison, and pointed out to them how this could easily be remedied, 
and recommended a change in diet from corn meal to one of vege- 
tables, of which there were plenty in the surrounding country ; to 
all of which Winder indifferently replied, ''The present arrangement 
is good enough, as it is having the desired effect, and if let alone, 
will soon thin the prisoners out so there will be plenty of room." 

Col. Chandler hastened to Richmond, made his report and 
recommended change of the officers in charge of the prison. The re- 
sult was that Jefferson Davis promoted John H. Winder to be Gen- 
eral in command of all the prisons in the Confederacy. Who will 
say with any pretense of telling the truth that "Jeff" Davis is not a 
murderer ? Where is there a man in existence who has such a pile 
of murders and brutality untold at his door ? That thousands of 
murders committed on helpless captives in the Confederacy were 
done with his full knowleege and permission, there is not a shadow 

[59] 



of doubt, and we need use only the Confederate evidence and records 
to prove it. and say nothing of the 15.000 graves at Andersonville — 
that harvest of death reaped from thirty-six acres of ground in one 
year and a half, and upwards of 4000 of that number in one single 
month. 

Time was moving slowly and we were rapidly sinking into de- 
pravity. We had told all the stories we knew and heard and all our 
neighbors knew. Every scrap of paper that had any reading on it 
was worn out. Several fights took place daily among the prisoners. 
Men in our condition were sure to be peevish and irritable, and the 
best of friends would quarrel about a trifling matter. The "light- 
weight" would get on his feet, stagger around and then balance in 
front of his opponent ; stinging words would pass, and then the bony 
fist launch feebly out; it misses the mark and the owner following 
goes to the ground ; the other fellow is trying to ward off the blow, 
loses his balance and falls. This ends the fight, as they are too 
much exhausted to renew it. 

7th. Nothing new to-day ; there is a stench of things rotting in 
the heat. 

8th. The hounds tracked the men who got out, and one fellow 
was torn so badly that he cannot live ; the number of deaths is run- 
ning up ; about two hundred die each day ; 1 will try and keep up 
my courage and trust in God to get me out of this place. 

nth. Nothing of interest in the last day or so. Thomas Kelly 
of Co. H died this morning, the sun is a regular furnace. An 
order was read to us this morning stating that a general exchange of 
prisoners was to take place. 

12th. Ten months a prisoner to-day and what a change ! 

13th. It still keeps hot and deaths are increasing in an alarm- 
ing manner ; ten detachments, or about a thousand prisoners are to 
leave here to-day for the point of exchange, so the rebels say. 

[60] 



i4th. About twenty-five hundred left to-day. 

15th. Between three and four thousand prisoners sent off to-day. 

i6th. A prisonerhadhislegamputated to-day at the thigh; this is 
the third time for him, first at the foot, then at the i<nee and now 
half way up his thigh ; he sat and held his own leg while they sawed 
it off. 

17th. No prisoners left here yesterday or to-day, Alfred 
Friend, Co. F, 12th. N. Y. C, has just informed me that he is the 
only man alive out of 53 of his regiment. 

24th. Had to give up writing at last, as 1 am completly used up 
with rheumatism. 

28th. Guess my time has come ; was taken to the hospital 
this morning and put in a tent with ten more sick. 

September 16, 1864. Have been in here over two weeks ; the 
doctor says I will pull through all right ; I cant hear any news to 
put in my diary. 

i8th. The doctor wanted to know this afternoon if I got my 
medicine ; I told him that what I wanted was something to eat, in- 
stead of medicine. 

24th. The doctor told me that upwards of twelve thousand 
prisoners have died since we came here. 

28th. One month in the hospital to-day, but do not seem to 
improve ; our rations are a little better here than in the pen. 

30th. Six men died in this tent since 1 came here ; they say 
they are dying very fast. 

October 6, 1864. Father Hamilton, a Catholic priest, paid a 
visit to our tent to-day ; he is a very fine old gentleman, and 
seemed to take considerable interest in me ; he said he would call 
again to-morrow. 

[61J 



7th, Father Hamilton called on me again this morning ; he 
says that he is going to attend to the sick at this place, the most of 
whom are Catholics. He was surprised when I told him 1 came 
from "the old sod" and could read Latin; he thought 1 was too 
young to be in the army. 

8th. A little better this morning ; Father Hamilton and two 
Sisters of Charity called on me to-day and gave me something nice 
to eat. 

9th. I turned on my bed of straw this morning and found that 
the man next to me was dead ; this makes seven out ©f eleven. 

loth. I got the dead man's rations this morning and feel con- 
siderably better: there is great moaring here, day and night, occas- 
ioned by so much suffering ; it would make you sick to see some of 
the men swollen as large as a barrell with the dropsy, and doubled 
up with rheumatism and scurvy, and a great number with arms and 
legs cut off ; I got seven new tent mates to day. 

nth. Father Hamilton called to-day and brought me an under 
shirt ; he said 1 looked better. 

i2th. One year a prisoner to-day. 

r3th. The surgeons have their hands full taking off arms and 
legs. 

14th. Father Hamilton told me he sold his property in Savan- 
nah and bought sixteen hundred barrels of flour for the sick ; that 
accounts for our getting wheat bread. 

15th. Another tent-mate died this morning ; I don't seem to 
improve much ; it is quite cool in the mornings now. 

17th. My diary is almost full ; only a few leaves are now left. 
Walter Webb of my company was brought out here to-day ; the poor 
fellow is almost dead. 

19th. Another tent-mate died this morning , I got hold of a new 
piece of pencil this morning — mine was hardly an inch long. Webb 

[62] 



tells me that one hundred of our regiment are dead ; Father Hamilton 
brought me some cold roast beef this morning, and oh ! how good 
it was. 

20th. Webb called to see me this morning, but had to crawl 
on his hands and knees, as the cords of his legs are so drawn up that 
he cannot stretch them out. 

22d. Nothing to say, except that the groans of the sick and 
dying are terrible ; thev cry in their dying agony for a mother a 
wife, child or friend to come to them. Oh! Lord of Heaven, it is 
awful, awful ! It would bring tears from a stone to hear the heart- 
rending cries for a distant friend ; some one will have a great deal to 
answer for. 

When our country called for men, we came from forge and 
shop and mill; 
From workshops, farms and factories, our broken ranks to fill. 

We left our quiet Northern homes that once we loved so well. 
To vanquish all the Union's foes, or fall where others fell. 

Now in prison drear we languish, and it is our constant cry, 
Oh ! ye who yet can save us, will you leave us here to die ! 

The voice of slander tells you that our hearts are weak 
with fear. 
That all or nearly all of us were captured in the rear ; 

But the scars upon our bodies from musket ball and shell. 
The missing legs and shattered arms, a truer tale will tell. 

We tried to do our duty in sight of God on high ; 
Oh ! ye who yet can save us, will you leave us here to die ! 

There are hearts with hopes still beating, in our pleasant 
Northern homes, 
Awaiting, watching footsteps that may never come. 

In Southern prisons pining, meagre, tattered pale and gaunt. 
Growing weaker, weaker, daily, from pinching cold and want. 

Those brothers, sons and husbands, poor and helpless captive 
lie. 
Oh ! ye who yet can save us, will you leave us here to die ! 

[63J 



From out our prison gate there is a gravej ard close at hand, 
Where lies thirteen thousand Union men, beneath the Georgia sand 
Scores and scores are laid beside them as day succeeds to day, 
And thus it will ever be till they all shall pass away ; 

And the last can say when dying, with upturned and glaring 
eye. 
Both love and faith are dead at home, they have left us here to 
die. 

23d. I forgot to mention that there are fifteen wards in this 
hospital, twelve tents in each ward, ^nd each tent will contain twelve 
men ; the floor of each tent is covered with straw, without any quilts 
or blankets. 1 am in the eleventh ward, tent No. 4; Webb is in 
the thirteenth ward, tent No. 9. The doctor visits us each day ; he 
does not come in, but stands at the door and asks each patient how 
he is, and then tells the hospital steward, who accompanies him, to 
give him such and such a medicine — all by numbers ; if they would 
stay away and give us more grub, we would get well sooner. 

25th. Have not seen Wirz since I came in here. If some of the 
prisoners come across him after the war is over, he won't live long. 

26th. Father Hamilton called on me this morning and brought 
me a nice slice of bread and butter ; he says he will try and bring 
me a little milk. 

28th. Feel considerably better ; four died in this ward last 
night, and one fellow died in my tent this afternoon ; his name was 
Darus March. He gave me a picture, in case I get home, to send to 
Emaline Wooding, Jackson, Susquehanna county. Pa. 

29th. Walter Webb called to see me this morning. 

November 8, 1864. Election Day in the North for President of 
the United States. Wirz has requested that we have a mock election, 
and each prisoner is to vote, whether of age or not, and says that 
whatever will be the majority in the hospital will be a fair test as to 
the result in the North. We all like McClellan but to spite the 

[64] 



rebels most of us will vote for Lincoln, So this afternoon each man 
was given two slips of paper with the names of McClelhm on one 
and Lincoln on the other ; two rebel sergeants visited each tent with 
a basket and gathered the vote, and at five o'clock they announced 
the result, which stood, McClellan 531, and Lincoln 1,239. Wirz is 
terribly angry and says it will be "Link-in and Link-out" for us for 
some time to come. 

i2th. Had another visit from the priest to-day ; he brought me 
a bottle of milk. it is the first milk 1 have tasted for thirteen 
months. 

13th. All the Irish who could walk were called to the gate this 
afternoon by a Col. McNeill, of the lOth Tennessee (rebel) regiment. 
to see if any of them would take the oath to join the rebel j^ervice. 
Not an Irishman enlisted, but two Yankees did, one from Connecticut 
and the other from a New York regiment; so you see the Irish are 
the most loyal. 

14th. Webb called on me to-day ; we had a talk over the ex- 
citement caused by the appeal to the Irish ; he says McNeill is no true 
Irishman or he would not trv to degrade Ireland and her people bv 
making such a proposition. It is quite cool now and we have hardly 
any clothing. 

29th. Had another severe attack of rheumatism and feel badly. 
While one of the doctors v.'as in yesterdav, his dog strayed into one 
of the tents, and one of the prisoners threw an old blanket over him 
and killed him ; he ate part of it and said it was elegant ; he buried 
the entrails, but one of the other poor fellows dug them up, cooked 
and ate them, 

December 4, 1864. 1 asked Dr. Pollott, who attends this ward, 
if he would examine the records out in the surgeons headquarters 
let me know how many of my regiment have died at Andersonville 
since 1 came here. 

[65J 



7th. Dr. Pollott kindly gave me the list I asked for ; it gives 
me the names of the men in my regiment, company, and date of 
death and number of grave ; I am thankful for it. My diary is just 
about full. 

lOth. I feel no better. My diary is full ; it is too bad, but can- 
not get any more. Good bye all ; I did not think it would hold out 
so long when I commenced. 

Yours sufferingly, 

MICHAEL DOUGHERTY, 

Co. B, 13th Pa. Volunteer Cavalry. 
Confederate State Military Prison Hospital. 



Later Events, 



From the time of the last record in my diary in December, 
1864, up to April, 1865, I remained in the hospital, and was not able 
to keep any daily record, even if 1 had the facilities to do so, which 
I had not, During this time, as during the previous months, there 
were constant rumors of exchange and parole, but we heard the same 
so often that I would not believe it until I found myself homeward 
bound. We did know, however, that they were sending a great 
many prisoners north from Andersonville and presumed it was for 
exchange or parole, although we did not know definitely ; and even 
when my own turn came to leave, I did not know what my destina- 
tion was until after I had left Andersonville ; the sick in the hospital 
were the last prisoners to be sent away. 

April 12, 1865. Leave Andersonville, Georgia, to-day. Start 
from here by way of Selma, Ala., thence to Jackson, Miss., stopping 
at the Big Black river for a week to gain strength before we start 
north. 

April 20th. Just heard of the assassination of President 
Lincoln. Our boys are furious over the sad news, saying it is a 
Rebel plot, 

April 22d. Near Vicksburg, Miss. There are about 4000 of us 
prisoners at this place. We got orders to be ready to march into 
Vicksburg to-morrow, as there are two boats ready to take us up 
the Mississippi to St. Louis, Mo. 

April 23, 1865. Vicksburg. Miss. Went aboard the boat 
called the "Sultana" to be taken to St. Louis, Mo. There are about 
2200 of us. mostly old prisoners from Andersonville, Ga. 

[67J 



On the trip up the Mississippi, the "Sultana" met with a 
terrible disaster, causing complete destruction of the boat ; and hun- 
dreds of men who had passed safely through many bloody battles 
and the horrible suffering of Southern prison life perished within but 
a few days' journey of home and friends. The story of the accident 
can best be told by the following account taken from a St. Louis 
newspaper dated May i, 1865. 

"The Boat Packed" 

"The boat was packed to its utmost capacity, the men 
occupying every available space possible on decks, in the 
hold, and at other points of vantage. The boat traveled 
from eight to ten miles per hour, the river being out of its 
banks about twenty feet and a swift current prevailing. 
The boat reached Memphis on the morning of April 26th, 
where a quantity of sugar, which had served as ballast, was 
unloaded. The boat was towed across the river, and after 
dark it started on its trip up the river. The terrific ex- 
plosion which occasioned the destruction of the vessel with 
its thousands of human freight occurred about four o'clock 
in the morning of April 27th at "Hen and Chickens" 
Islands. One of the four boilers burst, and the flying 
pieces ascended and almost cut the vessel in twain. The 
fne immediately spread and the cabins burned like tinder, 
and it was but a short time until the entire craft was en- 
veloped in flames and burned to the water's edge. Hun- 
dreds were forced to leap into the water and were drowned 
in squads, while others who could swim or had secured pieces 
of drift wood were unable to rescue themselves on account 
of being grabbed by others, and consequently perished. 

[68] 



"Night of Terror" 

"One thing favorable for the occupants of the boat was 
that a lively gale was blowing, hence, the bow of the boat 
having no cabin, it faced the wind until the cabin from the 
stern was burned. The boat gradually swung around, the 
unburned part acting as a sail, while that below acted as a 
rudder, and finally all were driven into the water. The 
very dark night, heavy rain, and the extreme high stage of 
the river were decidely to the disadvantage of even those 
who secured means of escape, From survivors it is learned 
that hundreds swam for miles, in the hope of reaching some 
point of safety, and finally sank from exhaustion. Others 
were caught on protruding limbs of trees, where they re- 
mained until the rescue boats appeared the day following. 
Still others clung to rafts made of fragments from the boat 
Seven boats came up the river the next day and picked up 
all the unfortunates who could be found. Some were taken 
to Memphis, others to St. Louis and Cairo, and all were 
placed in hospitals, where they remained until able to be re- 
leased. A significant fact was that out of only fifteen 
women on board none was saved. They were members 
of the Christian commission* — something iikin to the 
present Red Cross movement. 

''A Heroic Woman'' 

"One of these women, with more than ordinary cour- 
age, when the flames had driven the men from the boat, 
seeing them fighting like demons in the water and destroying 
each other in their mad endeavors to save their lives, urged 
them to be calm, and finally succeeded in quieting them 
down, and they were saved on pieces of timber that were 

[69J 



available. This good woman did not heed the flames that 
were lapping about her. and, when urged by the men to 
jump into the water and save herself on floating timbers, 
she refused, saying: "1 might lose my presence of mind 
and be the means of the death of some of you." And so, 
rather than run the risk of becoming the cause of the death 
of a single person, she folded her arms deliberately and 
burned, a voluntary martyr to the men she had so lately 
calmed. 

As the dawn of the new day came, the wreckage be- 
gan to move down the stream, and one survivor, who had 
saved himself by clinging to the top of a tree, gives this 
description of the last that was seen of the boat's remains : 

"The hull of the "Sultana" came floating down the 
river, with a dozen or more of the boys still clinging to the 
burning wreck. A mound of earth which had not been 
overflowed had formed a sort of island, and several of the 
men on the wreck had lodged on it. As they discovered 
the men on the hull of the boat, a raft of logs was made and 
they were rescued. Before they landed the last man, the 
hull of the "Sultana" went down, its hot iron sending the 
hissing water and steam to an enormous height." 

^Amongthe "Christian commission" above referred to were 
two Sisters of Charity who accompanied us all the way from Vicks- 
burg, Miss., and one of them was the heroic woman mentioned. 

May 3, 1865. I am one of the lucky ones who escaped the sad 
disaster. 1 was well taken care of when I arrived here about a week 
ago. We are ^oing to start to our Northern homes to-morrow to 
Annapolis, Md. 

May 6th. After three days ride we arrived at Annapolis, Md., 
tired and worn out. Will stay here for a couple of days and will then 
start for Philadelphia, to he mustered out of the service. 

[70] 



May 9th. Arrived at Philadelphia this noon ; they say that we 
are going to be sent to a place called Spring Mills until we are dis- 
charged. 

June 27, 1865. Discharged at Spring Mills to-day. Arrived at 
Bristol, Bucks County, Pennsylvania, this afternoon, to the great 
joy of my morher and sisters and not forgetting myself. I am more 
dead than alive after all my trials of suffering and hardships, with 
shattered constitution and crippled with rheumatism and scurvy from 
my long confinement in Southern prisons. When I left for the Army» 
I weighed one hundred and fifty pounds, now I really believe 1 do 
not weigh one hundred. 

I placed myself under the care of Dr. E. J. Groom, and in less 
than one year he had me in a fair condition, and was able to go to 
work. I cannot stand much yet, for the disease contracted in those 
prisons is in my system, and will be, 1 suppose, as long as 1 live ; 
I suffered for 23 months and 17 days in Southern prisons. 

1 have carried you hastily through these scenes, but you have 
not seen all, as it is beyond the power of pen or brush to portray or 
tongue to tell of those scenes, which will haunt me to my grave. 
The reality calls for a better light and a nearer view than your 
clouded, distant gaze will ever get. 

Believe me, 1 have told you the truth as to what we have suf- 
fered in Confederate prisons, which you never can and which I pray 
God your children never may. 

As you would have your own woes pitied and your own cries for 
mercy heard, I beg of you to read the accounts written by the prison 
survivors, for while they seem so horrible and you mentally suffer, 
you will be paid a thousand-fold in being the better able to appre- 
ciate the many blessings you now enjoy, and to encourage the efforts 
of a poor survivor to teach the youth of our Republic to show an un- 
divided patriotism for one county and one flag. 
MICHAEL DOUGHERTY, 
Late Co. B and Co. M, 13th Pa, Volunteer Cavalry. 

[7'J 



Medals of Honor, 



1 have been presented with a handsome gold medal by the 
Colonel of my regiment, afterwards Brigadier General M. Kerwini 
for bravery in carrying dispatches from General Mulroy's head- 
quarters at the battle of Winchester. June i6 to 19, 1863, in the 
three days' fight. 

1 have also been granted a medal of honor in accordance with 
an Act of Congress, which entitles me to membership in the Medal 
of Honor Legion ; and the publication issued by the War Department 
relative to those receiving medals of honor gives ths following data : 

"Name rank at date of 

action, and organization .... Michael Dougherty, 

Priv.,Co. B, i3thPa.Cav. 

Date of issue January 23, 1897. 

Place Jefferson, Va, 



Action 

Date October 12, 1863. 

Ground of award ... At the head of a detachment of his 
his company, dashed across an open field, exposed to a 
deadly fire from the enemy, and succeeded in dislodging 
them from an unoccupied house, which he and his 
comrades defended for several hours against repeated 
attacks, thus preventing the enemy from flanking the 
Union forces." 

The following is a copy of the communication I received from 
the War Department advising me of the award of this medal : 

[72] 



Subject: Medal of Honor. 432, 1 39- 

RECORD AND PENSION OFFICE, 
WAR DEPARTMENT, 

Washington City, 

January 23, 1897. 

Mr, Michael Dougherty, 

Late private, Co. B, 13th Pa. Cav., 
Bristol, PennsN Ivania. 
Sir: 

I have the honor to inform you that, by direction of the 
President and in accordance with the act of Congress approved 
March 3, 1863, providing for the presentation of medals of honor to 
such officers, non commissioned officers and privates as have most 
distinguished themselves in action, the Assistant Secretary of War 
has awarded you a medal of honor for most distinguished gallantry in 
action at Jefferson, Virginia, October 12, 1863. 

In making the award the Assistant Secretary used the follow- 
ing language. 

"This soldier, at the head of a detachment of his com- 
pany, dashed across an open field exposed to a deadly fire 
from the enemy and succeeded in dislodging them from an 
unoccupied house, which he and his comrades defended for 
several hours against repeated attacks, thus preventing the 
enemy from flanking the position of the Union forces." 
The medal has been forwarded to you to-day by registered 
mail. Upon receipt of it, please advise this office thereof. 

Very respectfully, 
(Signed) F. C. AINSWORTH, 

Colonel, U. S. Army, 

Chief, Record and Pension Office. 

[73J 



SUMMARY 



The variation — from month to month — of the proportion of deaths 
to the whole number of living is singular and interesting. 

The following facts were taken from the official report, shows : 

In April, one in every sixteen died. 

In May, one in every twenty-six died. 

In June, one in every twenty-two died. 

In July, one in every eighteen died. 

In Augustj one in every eleven died. 

In September, one in every three died. 

In October, one in every two died. 

In November, one in every three died. 
Does the reader fully understand that in September, one-third of 
those in the Pen died, that in October, one-half of the remainder 
perished, and in November, one-third of those who still survived, 
died ? Let him pause for a moment, and read this over carefully 
again, because its startling magnitude will hardly dawn upon him at 
first reading. It is true that the fearful disproportionate mortality of 
those months was largely due to fact that it was mostly the sick that 
remained behind, but even thisdiminishesbut littlethe frightfulness of 
the showing. Did anyone ever hear of an epidemic so fatal that 
one-third of those attacked by it in one month died ; one-half of the 
remnant the next month, and one-third of the feeble remainder the 
next month ? If he did, his reading has been much more extensive 
than mine. 

Day and date of greatest number of prisoners at Andersonville — 
33,114— August 8th, 1864. 

Day and date of greatest number of deaths, August 23d, 1864, 127. 
Number of Prisoners received during its occupation, 45,613. 
Daily average of deaths during its occupation, 29^. 
Ratio of mortality per i.ooo of mean strength, 24 per cent. 
Mortality of 18,000 registered patients, 75 per cent. 

[74] 



THE WAR'S DEAD. 

The total number of deceased Union soldiers during and in conse- 
quence of ttie war, is 316,233. Of these, only 175,764 have been 
identified, and the rest will probably remain forever unknown. Of 
the grand total, 36,868 are known to have been prisoners of war, 
who died in captivity. There are seventy-two National Cemeteries 
for the dead of the Union armies. Besides which there are 320 local 
and Post Cemeteries. The largest of the Government grounds are: 
Arlington, Va,, the former homestead of Gent-ral Robert E. Lee, 
15.547 graves; Fredericksburg, Va., 15,300 graves; Salisbury, 
N. C, 12,1 12 graves ; Beaufort, S. C, 10,000 graves ; Anderson - 
ville, Ga., 13,706 graves; Marietta, Ga., lO oco graves; New 
Orleans, La., 12,230 graves; Vicksburg, Miss., 17,012 graves; 
Chattanooga, Tenn., 12.964 graves ; Nashville, Tenn., 16,529 
graves; Memphis, Tenn., 13,958 graves ; Jefferson Barracks, near 
St. Louis, Mo., 8,601 graves. The National Cemetery near Rich- 
mond, Va., contains 6,279 graves, of which 5,450 are of unknown 
dead, mostly prisoners of war. The cemeteries are kept in good 
condition, and are generally well sodded and planted with ornamental 
tiees. 



[75J 



Trial of Henry Wirz, 



In the foregoing pages' you will fiind the name of Capt. Henry 
Wirz mentioned in several instances as being cruel and inhuman to 
the Union prisoners. He was tried and convicted of murder, the 
trial commencing August 23, 1865 and ending October 26, 1865, 
hundreds of witnesses testified that he committed murder on eleven 
soldiers who were confined in Andersonville, Ga., prison. He was 
sentenced to death and the sentence was executed at Washington, 
D. C. between the hours of lO and 11 o'clock, Friday morning, 
November 10, 1865. His body was interred in the Arsenal grounds. 

(The above was taken from the official report of the trial of Henry 
Wirz ) 

(THE END.) 



LB Mr '03 



